











Bo*_T13_ 


COP»tlGHT DEPOSITS 








HELEN CAREY 

SOMEWHERE IN AMERICA, 







' ‘ lie kicked and ran and stopped suddenly, but Missy was ready 
for him and stayed in the saddle” 

{Page 140) Frontispiece 




HELEN CAREY 

SOMEWHERE IN AMERICA 

A WAR TIME STORY 


BY 

MARTHA TRENT 


ILLUSTRATED BY 

CHAS. L. WRENN 


NEW YORK 
BARSE & HOPKINS 
PUBLISHERS 



iV 



Copyright, 1918 
by 

Barse & Hopkins 



M 20 1918 


©C;.A4S9399 

^'vO I 




DEDICATED TO 

E. S. M. 


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CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I Missy Rides for the Mail 11 

II A Piebald Pony and a Blacksnake Whip . 19 

III The Belgium Soldier^s Letter ..... 29 

IV The Tenderfoot Arrives 41 

V A Discovery Between Dances .... _. 48 

VI Not Such a Tenderfoot After All .... 59 
VII Preparing for What Might Happen ... 71 

VIII Missy Is Just in Time .80 

IX The Holdup 91 

X Missy Receives Congratulations .... 100 

XI Volunteers 108 

XII Ned Returns 120 

XIII The Picnic 129 

XIV The Surprise Party 145 

XV Two Letters 156 

XVI On the Train 166 

XVII A Renewed Acquaintance 179 

XVIII The Warning 189 

XIX The Rescue 200 

XX Missy Makes a Promise 206 

XXI Conclusion . ... 215 



ILLUSTRATIONS 


‘‘He kicked and ran and stopped suddenly, but Missy was 
ready for him and stayed in the saddle” . . Frontispiece^ 

PAGE 

“Hurry up, Missy. Whafs he say?” 31 

“She spurred Cappy to such a pace that conversation was 
impossible” 69 

“ ‘Not to-day, Mr. Sheldon.^ And he found himself look- 
ing into the muzzle of Missy^s gun” 89 ^ 

“He waved a welcoming hand and sat down on the fence 
to wait for her^^ 


121 



it' 




HELEN CAREY 


CHAPTER I 

MISSY RIDES FOR THE MAIL 

ride in for the mail, Chink.’’ Helen 
I Carey spoke from the depths of a big 
wicker chair, and so startled the little 
Chinaman who stood in the doorway that he very 
nearly dropped the basket of vegetables he was 
carrying. He regained his composure almost at 
once, however, in true Oriental fashion, folded his 
small yellow hands complacently before him, and 
chanted in a high, sing-song voice : 

‘‘Missy go, ali-right, supper six ’clock, flap- 
jacks,” and shufiSed out of the room. 

Helen, or Missy, to use the name by which 
every one on the Carey ranch called her, got up 
from her chair, yawned, stretched and went out 
on the veranda. 

Half girl, half boy, and the better half of each, 
is an adequate description of Missy. She was 
slim and straight, with broad shoulders, and a 
11 


12 


HELEN CAEEY 


well-shaped, little head. Her hair was dark 
brown, and she wore it brushed straight back 
from her forehead in a thick braid down her back. 
Her gray-blue eyes were clear and steady, with 
the slightest suggestion of a squint, and her 
mouth, small and delicate, turned up provokingly 
at the comers. There was an expression of 
courage and self-reliance in her whole manner 
that is not often found in a sixteen-year-old girl. 

She jumped down from the porch, scorning 
to use the steps, and made for the corral at the 
side of the ranch building. A cowboy was just 
unsaddling a pony at the door of the main bam, 
whistling softly. 

Hello, Ned,’^ Missy called. ‘‘What are you 
doing back so soonT^ 

“What am I doing back? Ask Jinx,” the cow- 
boy returned in an aggrieved voice, as he threw 
the saddle down in one comer of the barn. 

The pony took a few steps toward the feed box, 
and Missy saw that he limped. 

“Oh, a sprain! how did it happen?” she asked. 

“I told you to ask Jinx,” Ned answered 
crossly. “I don’t know; I didn’t see a gopher 
hole, but he did, picked it out, and went and fell 
in it; he’s the most contrary — ” 

“Now, Ned, quit blaming Jinx; you weren’t 


MISSY EIDES FOR THE MAIL 13 


looking where you were going, Missy laughed. 
‘‘Anyway, stop scolding him long enough to go 
and catch Cappy for me. V\l wait in the corral.’’ 

Ned ambled otf up the lane, a comical figure 
in his broad sombrero and flapping chaps. 

He singled Missy’s pony Cappy from the 
other horses in the pasture and drove him into 
the corral. Missy slipped the halter over his 
head and saddled him. 

“Where are you bound for?” Ned inquired as 
he helped her pull in the girth strap. 

“Mail,” Missy answered shortly. “Shut the 
gate for me, will you?” 

She jumped into the saddle, arranged her rid- 
ing skirt, and touched Cappy ’s flank with her 
spur, and horse and rider swung out of the 
corral. 

Ned fastened the gate and went back, still 
grumbling, to Jinx. He always had a grievance 
about something, and the other cowboys delighted 
in making him the butt of their none too gentle 
humor. 

Two big puffy clouds chased each other lazily 
across the blue sky as Missy passed the ranch 
house and headed Cappy over the plains that 
stretched out as far as the eye could see in low un- 
dulating hills. 


14 


HELEN CAEEY 


Sage brush and an occasional clump of aspen 
trees broke the monotony. The earth was soft, 
and Gappy broke into a steady lope. Missy 
tightened the elastic of her sombrero under her 
chin and settled down comfortably into her Mexi- 
can saddle. It was a good three miles to the mail 
box, and she was in no hurry. 

When she had traveled for two miles ’cross 
country and struck the main road, she met John 
Price, the owner of the adjoining ranch. 

‘‘Hello, Missy Carey,” he greeted, when he was 
within hailing distance. “Are you bound for the 
mail?” 

“Yes, I’m expecting a letter,” Missy replied, 
“and the boys won’t be back from the roundup 
till late, and I just couldn ’t wait. ’ ’ 

“A letter, eh? Now, who from, I’d like to 
know? That Belgian soldier. I’ll wager.” Mr. 
Price pulled his horse into a walk beside Gappy. 

“Now, how did you guess?” Missy laughed. 
“That’s just who it is.” 

“Will you read it to me if you get it?” 

“Course I will; don’t I always? I’ve read his 
last letter to every one of the boys on our place at 
least twenty times. Next time I write him I’m 
going to tell him to address his next letter to the 
State of Wyoming.” 


MISSY RIDES FOR THE MAIL 15 


‘‘He^s a queer sort. Where did you ever get 
the idea of writin’ himr^ 

‘^Last winter at school — all the girls do it — 
we had a list of names from the War Relief Com- 
mittee, and we each chose one. I got Henri, and 
I know he^s nicer than the rest.’’ 

^‘Do you get sort of lonesome for school some- 
times, Missy?” Mr. Price asked thoughtfully, 
suppose you do.” 

don’t either,” Missy denied. ^‘I’m so glad 
to be back home! Why, I used to die almost, 
cooped up in that house with nothing but streets 
to look at.” 

“How did you like the teachers?” Mr. Price 
inquired. He was particularly fond of Missy, 
and it was with many misgivings that he had 
seen her go off the year before to a hoarding 
school in Philadelphia. 

Now that she had returned he was eager to 
prove her unchanged. 

“Not much, they were sort of pokey,” Missy 
admitted. “And how they did disapprove of me ! 
Why if I whistled, just softly to myself, you 
know, they’d talk about my breezy western way, 
and if I used any words like wrangle, or round 
up or — well you know — any of our words, they 
lifted their eyebrows and said: *My, how wild 


16 


HELEN CAEEY 


and wooUey that sounds!^ Mr. Price chuckled. 

‘‘Going hack next year?’’ he inquired. 

“No, Dad says I must, but I don’t think he’ll 
make me, not there, anyway. Of course, I’ve 
got to go on being educated, I suppose.” Missy 
accompanied the words with a profound sigh. 

“Shucks, you’re educated enough as it is,” 
John Price exclaimed emphatically. “'Why you 
can ride a horse better than — ” 

“But that’s not Latin grammar and the Class- 
ics,” Missy reminded him. “No, I’ve got to go 
to school. Dad says so, and so does Aunt Tab, 
so that’s all there is about it. But don’t let’s 
talk of it or me any more. Tell me some news 
about yourself. Have you sold any more horses 
to the English Government?” 

Mr. Price thought for a moment, and then said 
slowly : 

“No, and I can’t understand why not. You 
know. Missy, that my horses are second to none 
in this part of the country.” 

“Except the Careys’, of course,” Missy teased. 

“No, you don’t, I say second to none, not ex- 
cepting yours. Well, I sold off a batch to that 
English dude that was here about three months 
ago, and just when I was expecting another visit 


MISSY EIDES FOR THE MAIL 17 

from him, I got a letter telling me in the most 
polite language — ^but telling me just the same — 
that I’m no good and my horses are worse.” 

John Price’s honest face expressed indignation 
at the memory of that letter. 

“Why I never heard of anything so queer,” 
Missy replied wonderingly. “How do you ex- 
plain it? You didn’t sell him your broncos as 
Arab steeds, did you?’^ 

“I did not, I took him out and I rounded up the 
best horses I had. They weren’t much for 
beauty. I’ll allow, but they were sound and 
healthy.” 

“Perhaps the ocean trip didn’t agree with 
them,” Missy suggested, and the subject was 
perforce dropped there, by their arrival at the 
mail box. 

Missy jumped off her pony and tqok a handful 
of letters from her box. She sorted them hur- 
riedly. “None for me, isn’t that mean, and I 
was sure I’d hear to-day. Goodness, I hope 
Henri hasn’t been killed. Aren’t you going back 
home?” she inquired, as Mr. Price took his letters 
out of the box and put the rest back. 

“No, I’m bound for the store,” he answered. 
“I’ll stop on my way back to-night. I guess Pete 


18 


HELEN CAEEY 


can wait that long, though if he knew there was a 
letter for him from his girl in ’Frisco, he’d shoot 
me for keeping him waiting,” he chuckled. 

‘Ht’s a shame to keep him waiting so long. 
Give me the rest of the letters and I’ll ride over 
and leave them for you.” 

‘‘Make you late for supper, won’t it?” 

“No, Gappy and I can make it,” Missy said, as 
she strapped the Price ranch mail together with 
her own, and jumped back into her saddle. 

“The boys’ll be mighty grateful if you will,” 
Mr. Price said, “and I can come back by the 
Gulch short cut to-night and save a couple of 
miles. ’ ’ 

“Then I’m otf.” Missy wheeled Gappy 
around. “No time to lose if I’m to get back at 
six for Ghink’s flapjacks. Good-by. Gome over 
soon.” 

‘ ‘ I will, ’ ’ J ohn Price replied as she trotted otf . 
“And oh. Missy!” he called after her, “if there’s 
anything I can say to your Dad about your not 
going back to school, you can bet I’ll say it,” he 
promised. 


CHAPTER II 


A PIEBALD PONY AND A BLACKSNAKE WHIP 

B y the time that Missy had delivered the 
mail at the Price ranch and started for 
home, the sun was already well down in 
the west. Off in the distance the Big Horn range 
loomed black against the sky. Dusk was gather- 
ing in on all sides, and the plains were shadowed 
by the grotesque shapes that swayed mysteri- 
ously in the half light. 

‘‘Hurry up, old boy, or there’ll be no flapjacks 
for your mistress,” Missy coaxed, as she leaned 
well over the pommel of her saddle to whisper in 
the pony’s ear. 

But Gappy refused to be hurried ; he knew the 
danger of not looking where he was going, and he 
picked his way carefully and methodically from 
one rolling hill to the next. Sometimes the click 
of his little hoofs started the jack rabbits, out 
for their dinner, and they would scuttle across the 
path to the shelter of the sage brush. 

Missy gave up worrying about the flapjacks 
and let her mind wander. She watched the color 

19 


20 


HELEN CAREY 


fade from the sky as the sun sank lower behind 
the distant range. She had centered her atten- 
tion on one tiny amber-tinted cloud, the last of 
the sunset, when Gappy threw back his head with 
a sudden jerk and whinnied. 

Missy was nearly thrown from her saddle. 
She tightened her hold on the reins and scanned 
the darkening pasture, but she could see nothing. 
The evening breeze rustled the sage brush, and 
a little ahead in a clump of aspen trees two sleepy 
red steers stared at her peacefully. 

“What is the matter with you, CappyT^ she 
demanded. “There’s nothing wrong; go along! 
I believe you are developing an imagination.” 

Gappy started, but he kept his ears well for- 
ward, and a minute later he stopped again and 
whinnied. Missy turned the pony and rode in 
the direction from which the sound came. They 
were quite near the ranch house by now, and she 
knew that the pasture they were in ended in an 
abrupt draw to the right. The sound seemed to 
come from there. 

She stopped Gappy and watched, wondering 
which one of the boys could be out at supper 
time. Whoever it was, he was at the bottom of 
the draw, and would soon come within sight. 
She waited, trying to soothe the excited Gappy. 


A PIEBALD PONY 


21 


Presently a man on a jiebald pony climbed up 
the farthest side of the draw and disappeared 
into the darkness. There was something familiar 
in the way he rode and the long black snake whip 
that hung from his wrist and trailed along the 
ground. 

Missy wheeled Cappy around and pricked him 
so sharply with her spurs that the astonished 
pony broke into a gallop and did not stop until 
he reached the corral gate. 

The Careys’ ranch house presented a different 
picture from the early afternoon. Supper was 
in progress, and the long, low-ceilinged dining- 
room was a confusion of voices and laughter. A 
long table occupied the center of the room. Mr. 
Carey sat at one end. He was a tall, spare man 
with a gray beard and bushy eyebrows, which 
tried to give him a look of stem severity but 
failed in the light of his laughing gray eyes. 

His sister Tabitha sat at the other end of the 
table. She was a rosy-cheeked, little old lady 
with white hair and gentle manners. Years be- 
fore, when Mrs. Carey had died, Mr. Carey had 
written to New England to beg his sister to make 
her home with him and help to care for his two 
children. And Miss Tabitha had come, bringing 
with her to the great spaces of Wyoming some- 


22 


HELEN CAREY 


thing of the prim spirit of New England and the 
fragrant memory of old-fashioned gardens and 
trim box hedges. 

That was fifteen years ago, and she had been 
Miss Tab to all the cowboys on the ranch since 
that time. 

Tom Carey sat beside his aunt. He was a 
younger, handsomer edition of his father, tall, 
thin and good-natured. 

The rest of the places at the table were filled 
by the cowboys — twelve in all. They were a con- 
tented and genial lot. Tom, who acted as fore- 
man for his father, had been the captain of his 
football team at college, and he managed the men 
under him much as he had managed his team, 
with the result that a good fellowship and loyalty 
to the ranch prevailed. 

When Missy entered the dining-room, after she 
had unsaddled Cappy, the boys were teasing Ned. 

‘‘Where did you find that gopher hole, NedT’ 
“Shoulders’^ asked seriously. “I wish you’d tell 
me, I’ll mark it with a flag for the next Little 
Valley round up. Certainly was neat the way 
you led Jinx up to it.” 

“Certainly was,” Tom agreed. “What did 
you do when you got home!” 

“Ned helped me weed my garden,” Miss Tab 


A PIEBALD PONY 


23 


said, answering for him. ‘ ^ There was a dreadful 
lot of weeds there. I never could have done it 
myself.’’ 

‘‘Well, now, that was real kind of Ned, wasn’t 
it?” Dicky Barrows exclaimed with pronounced 
admiration. “And did he pick the lovely bunch 
of posies that are in the front room?” he asked 
with an innocent grin. 

“I sure must find a gopher hole for the next 
round up,” Shoulders said softly. “I’m real 
tired to-night.” 

Ned looked up wrathfully from his plate of 
flapjacks. 

“That’s right, go on; don’t mind me. Say just 
exactly what you want,” he said with furious 
calm. “I don’t care; you can’t bother me.” 

Dicky was about to reply when Missy came in. 
“Evening, Aunt Tab. Hello, boys. Am I aw- 
fully late. Dad?” she said as she slipped into the 
vacant seat beside her father. “I met Mr. Price 
and took his mail back for him, and that took 
quite a while.” 

Her father looked at her affectionately. 
“You’re later than I’d ever be on flapjack 
night,” he said. “I’m afraid the boys have eaten 
all your share.” 

Missy smiled confidently and looked at Chink. 


24 


HELEN CAREY 


The Chinaman shuffled out of the room and re- 
turned with a plate of steaming flapjacks. 

Chink, you villain Sandy Morgan shouted. 
‘‘You just told me there were no more.’^ 

Chink smiled apologetically and rolled his eyes. 
“I forget these to just now,’’ he said sorrow- 
fully as he put the platter before Missy. 

“See anybody else?” Tom called down the 
table to his sister. 

“Yes, I did. Tommy,” she exclaimed, “and I 
meant to ask you about him the second I came in. 
Does Thud Sheldon still ride a piebald pony and 
carry a long black snake whip that trails on the 
ground!” 

“Yes, he does,” several of the boys replied at 
once. 

“Then I saw him to-night. He was just leav- 
ing the draw at the end of the home pasture,” 
Missy announced. She knew that her news would 
create a stir, for Thud Sheldon was the one ranch 
owner in that part of Wyoming who was thor- 
oughly disliked by all his neighbors. He owned 
a small tract of land on the other side of the Carey 
ranch, and had won the reputation for general 
shiftlessness and dishonesty. 

He owed the Carey ranch a particular grudge 


A PIEBALD PONY 


25 


for he had once been employed there as a cow 
puncher and discharged for dishonest dealings 
on an exchange of cattle. 

‘‘Thud Sheldon in our pasture!’^ Mr. Carey ex- 
claimed incredulously. “Are you sure, Missy T’ 

“No, Dad, not perfectly sure; hut I saw a man 
that looked like Thud. He was all hunched over 
in his saddle.’’ 

“That’s him all right,” Shoulders said with- 
out regard for the rules of grammar. “I saw 
him the other day down at the store; he’s struck 
luck of some kind lately. He was all dressed 
up and had a brand new saddle. He’s bought a 
lot of new cattle too; he was talking about it to 
Fritz at the hotel.” 

Mr. Carey’s face expressed surprise and a 
shade of anger. 

“I told Thud four years ago never to set foot 
on my land again,” he said quietly, “and I 
thought he knew me well enough to realize I 
meant it.” 

“Wish I’d seen him,” Tom said regretfully. 
“Do you think he recognized you, Missy?” 

“No, I don’t think he did; he seemed in con- 
siderable of a hurry.” 

“Dear, dear, what is this all about?” Miss Tab 


26 


HELEN CAREY 


inquired. ‘‘You all look so angry and upset, I’m 
sure if Mr. Sheldon crossed through our pasture 
he meant no harm.” 

“Of course not, Tabitha,” Mr. Carey agreed. 
“He was probably late and just taking a short 
cut home,” he added reassuringly. But he did 
not bother to explain where Thud was coming 
from. The fact that his ranch was beyond the 
Prices’, and the town beyond that, left the pos- 
sible place a question, and the answer seemed 
to be the Careys’ north pasture land. 

After supper was over the boys went out to the 
bunk house, and Mr. Carey read his mail in the 
front room that served as an office, while Aunt 
Tab knitted beside the lamp. 

Missy and Tom went out and sat on the steps 
of the front porch. The stars were out and it was 
clear and cool. 

“Mr. Price told me that the Englishman who 
bought his horses wrote him that they were no 
good,” Missy said. “Mr. Price was as cross as 
anything about it.” 

“Don’t blame him,” laughed Tom; “I would be 
too. I suppose wfe’ll be selling off some of our 
horses to one of the governments some day soon. 
Cee, I wish we could give them away,” he said 
earnestly. “It’s the least we can do to help out. 


A PIEBALD PONY 


27 


You didn^t get any letter from Henri, did youT’ 

‘‘Not to-day; maybe to-morrow, though. Some- 
times they come on Wednesday instead of Tues- 
day,’’ Missy replied. “Tommy, do you think 
we ’ll go to war ! ’ ’ she asked suddenly. 

“I don’t know; I should think we would.” 

“Will you go if we do?” 

“Well, say! you don’t suppose I’ll stay home 
and pick daisies, do you?” Tom replied in- 
dignantly. “Of course. I’ll go.” 

Missy put out her hand and squeezed his. 
“Silly, I know you would, hut I wanted to hear 
you say so.” 

‘ ‘ Oh, Tom, come here a minute. ’ ’ Mr. Carey ’s 
voice came through the open window of the front 
room. 

“You come too. Missy,” he added; “this will 
interest you, too.” 

They both went to him. 

“What’s up. Daddy?” Missy demanded, perch- 
ing on the arm of his chair. 

“We are going to have company,” her father 
told her. “Two Englishmen. They’re coming 
next week to buy some horses for their govern- 
ment. Well, we’ll be glad to sell them some, 
won’t we, Tom?” he asked laughingly. 

“Sure thing,” Tom replied. 


28 


HELEN CAREY 


‘‘Wonder if they’re the same ones who bought 
Mr. Price’s horses,” Missy said. “It would be 
funny if they liked ours better, wouldn’t it?” 

Her father and brother were busy rereading the 
letter and did not answer her. 

“Will you light my candle for me, dear?” 
Aunt Tab asked, as she folded up her knitting. 
“I think I’ll go up to bed.” 

“Of course I will,” Missy answered, leaving 
her father; “and we’ll take a look at the guest 
room and think what we can do to it to make 
it presentable,” she said. 

When she came downstairs again a little later 
she found her father alone. Tom had gone out 
to the bam. She put her arm on his shoulder. 

“Dad, do you think that was Thud Sheldon 
I saw to-day?” she asked. 

“Sounds like it,” her father admitted. 

“What do you make out he was doing?” 

Her father looked at her and laughed. 

“Can’t say, my dear, but I guess it wasn’t 
much. Don’t let it worry your mind,” he replied, 
and dismissed the subject with a yawn and re- 
turned to his letters. 


CHAPTER III 

THE BELGIAN SOLDIER LETTER 

M issy shook her duster out of the 
window. There was not a particle of 
dust on it, but she shook it none the less 
vigorously for that. 

Shoulders, riding in from the mail, saw it from 
a distant pasture and spurred his pony to even 
greater speed. He had the long-looked-for letter 
from Henri in his saddle hag, and he was eager to 
deliver it. 

A week had passed since Missy had expected 
the letter, and it had been a week of secret anxiety 
at the ranch. None of the boys liked to admit 
their interest in Henri, but each one felt that the 
unkjiown Belgian soldier who wrote so quaintly 
to Missy was a link that connected them person- 
ally to the great war, and the breaking of that 
link would be a disaster. 

Missy turned from the window and surveyed 
the guest room. Neat white curtains fluttered in 
the breeze, and Aunt Tab’s most cherished blue 
and while crazy quilt covered the big double bed. 
‘‘There, if that doesn’t suit their royal English 

29 


30 


HELEN CAREY 


liiglinesses, I^m sorry,” she said. ‘‘If I can 
smuggle up a bowl of flowers for the table without 
the boys seeing me, I’ll do it, and then the room 
really will look sweet. ’ ^ 

“But why shouldn’t the boys see you, my 
dear?” Aunt Tab inquired in surprise. “I’m 
sure if you ask Ned, or any of the others, they’ll 
be right glad to help pick them for you.” 

Missy was about to explain that, while the boys 
would gladly help Aunt Tab pick flowers, they 
would not be so eager to decorate the guest room 
for a tenderfoot. But she was saved by the 
timely arrival of Shoulders. 

“Missy, come down here quick,” he called from 
the front porch. “I’ve got your letter for you.” 

“From Henri?” Missy inquired, as she ran 
downstairs. 

Shoulders’ announcement brought some of the 
boys around from the back of the ranch house. 
They sat down on the steps and waited impatiently 
for Missy to open the square envelope of thin, 
gray, crinkly paper. 

“That’s his handwriting, isn’t it?” Dick in- 
quired. 

“Sure, I looked first thing,” Shoulders assured 
him. “I had a sort of a hunch that maybe he was 
in a hospital or something, but I guess not.” 



Hurry up, Missy, that’s he say?’^ 


Page 31 




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THE BELHIAN SOLDIER’S LETTER 33 


‘‘Hurry up, Missy. What’s he say?” Tom in- 
quired. 

Missy was already deep in the letter. 

‘ ‘ Oh, he says he ’s sorry not to have written be- 
fore, but his sector — ” she began, but Tom inter- 
rupted. 

“No, you don’t; read it the way he’s written 
it, and start from the beginning,” he insisted. 

“Oh, all right, but you might let me read it 
first,” Missy protested. “He says: 

“I am sorry not to have written you last 
week. ’ ’ 

“Don’t he start in with a dear or something?” 
Ned demanded. 

“Oh, for pity sake,” Missy laughed. “He do 
Ned, ” she teased. “ I ’ll start with the date. ’ ’ 

“May 19, third year of the war. 

“Somewhere in Belgium. 
dear little Marraine: 

“I am sorry not to have written you last week 
but the guns of the Boches were trained on our 
sector for much of the time, and they gave us 
little space for writing. Also we have made an 
attack. I was in the front trenches and so en- 
joyed the honor of going ‘over the top’ as our 
English comrades say. I cannot picture for you 


34 


HELEN CAREY 


our terrible fight, my dear little Marraine. First 
because I fear the censor would not permit, and 
next because even the recollection is blackness 
to my mind, and might cause you distress. Of 
a necesity one must leave some of his comrades 
behind in such an attack. 

^^C^est la guerre — 

‘‘What does that meanT’ Sandy Morgan 
asked. 

“It is the war,^’ Missy translated. 

“Go on,’’ Tom prompted. 

“But it is a thought not well to dwell upon,” 
— Missy continued reading — “much better it is to 
dream and think of my so-kind Marraine — my 
new sister. Do you mind if I call you that ? Did 
I ever tell you that I had a little sister too ? M a 
petite Marieken, but that was before the war. 
Where she is to-day I cannot say. Our little 
village is under Boche rule. 

“Bah, I return to those sad thoughts again. 
What a sorry fellow! you will think, is it not? 

“Now do listen again, Chere Marraine, and I 
will be more cheerful. Also I have a question 
to ask, perhaps you will like it, and perhaps not. 
It happens that I have a friend in our army who 
is in the cavalry. Now you must know that here 
we are scarce for horses, as the greedy Boches 


THE BELGIAN SOLDIER’S LETTER 35 


took all from our village. Therefore, we have 
depended on the English who in their turn, I 
take it, depend on you in America. Now, my 
little Marraine, you wrote that you come from the 
land of horses — good horses — and yet what do I 
hear! The American horse is no good — so says 
my friend Philippe — and this statement leaves 
me in wonder. Also he tells me to ask what is 
the meaning of all the marks on the horses’ hind 
quarters, and why must it be so. Can you tell 
me?” 

‘‘What do you suppose he’s driving at?” Dicky 
demanded. “What’s wrong with our horses, I’d 
like to know.^’ 

“I wish he had described the marks, maybe 
we could have found out what ranch they came 
from,” Shoulders said. “Bet they didn’t hail 
from around here.” 

“I’ll tell Mr. Price they’re some of his,” Missy 
laughed. 

“I don’t think it’s funny,” Tom said seriously. 
“Somebody is selling bad horses and that’s a 
mean game. What else does Henri say. Missy?” 

“Let’s see, where was I — Oh, yes, here — 

“You ask me, dear little Marraine — ” 

“That’s the fourth time he’s said that,” Ned 
grumbled, but Missy ignored him and read on : 


36 


HELEN CAREY 


What it is I want most in the trenches : Well, 
I will tell you. Tobacco ! tobacco ! tobacco ! 
With it I am happy in spite of the war; without 
it I am desolate. 

‘‘Good-by, my little friend. In another week 
I will write again. 

“Your devoted Belgian Soldier,’’ 

“Henei De Bkuin.” 

“P. S. I forgot to say that in the attack we 
captured two of the enemies’ trenches, which is 
considered by most not so bad.” 

“Not so bad! I should say not!” Tom ex- 
claimed. “I wish, Missy, the next time you write 
him you’d tell him that painful though the picture 
of the tight would be for his dear little Marraine, 
you ’ve a brother and several blood-thirsty friends 
who are aching for all the details.” 

“Just imagine his not knowing where his little 
sister is,” Missy said softly. “Poor boy.” 

“I guess he’s a plucky sort of a fellow,” Dicky 
remarked. “I liked that calm, ‘C’est la guerre^ 
— shows courage.” 

“Don’t forget to explain about the brands on 
the horses,” Ned grumbled; “tell him we tried 
tying pink ribbons on their ears to distinguish 
them, but it didn’t work,” he advised sarcas- 
tically. 


THE BELGIAN SOLDIER LETTER 37 


Missy paid no attention to the suggestion. 

“If he wants tobacco, tobacco he must have,” 
she said. “Will you get the right kind for me. 
Tommy 

“Of course; and say, while we^re about it, let’s 
send enough to last a while,” Tom replied. 

Shoulders put his hand in the pocket of his 
flannel shirt and took out a quarter. “There’s 
my donation for the first batch,” he said shyly. 
“I don’t just like to think of a man without a 
smoke.” The rest followed suit, and Tom col- 
lected the donations in his hat. 

“I’ll make Dad double it!” Missy said, as she 
counted the money. 

The sound of an automobile attracted their at- 
tention and they looked down the road. 

“There comes Dad and Tim now. Wonder 
where the Englishmen are?” Tom said. 

“Where’s your passengers?” Shoulders called 
as the car stopped at the side of the house. 

“They are unavoidably detained,” Mr. Carey 
answered with a short laugh. “Anyway that’s 
what the telegram that I found waiting for me 
at the station said. What do you think of that? 
Let me drive all the way in to town for nothing.” 

“When are they coming?” Missy asked. “Did 
it say?” 


38 


HELEN CAREY 


‘^Oh, yes, it said they 11 be here to-morrow 
morning, they hope, and not later than the after- 
noon train, sure.’^ 

“Well, that is definite,’’ Tom laughed. 
“You’d better take your lunch with you. Dad.” 

“I’d better do nothing of the kind,” his father 
replied decidedly. “You can go in and meet them 
to-morrow, son. I’ve waited all the time I in- 
tend to.” 

“Thanks, I’ve other things to do, and anyway 
they’ll be expecting you,” Tom said. 

“Then they’ll be disappointed. I’m a busy 
man and when I make a date, I keep it. Here’s 
your candy, Mi^sy, and Tim has a long message 
for you from Flora Dodd.” Mr. Carey tossed 
a box to his daughter and went into the house. 

Tim joined the group on the steps. 

“What’s the messaged’ Missy demanded. 
“Anything exciting?” 

Tim deliberated. He took off his sombrero 
and mopped his forehead. 

“Reckon I’ve forgotten what she said,” he re- 
marked carelessly, his eyes on the unopened 
candy. 

Missy understood the hint and opened the box. 
The boys all helped themselves and Tim remem- 
bered his message. 


THE BELGIAN SOLDIER’S LETTER 39 

''Flora says to tell you that there’s a dance to- 
morrow night at the hotel. She has a lot of girls 
on from California visiting her, and she says you 
must come and bring all the boys, especially Ned, 
he’s such a grand dancer.” Tim added the last 
as his own personal touch to Flora’s message, but 
Ned took it quite seriously. 

"Well, she can get along without me this time,” 
he said importantly. "Last time I had a dance 
with her she forgot about it so she could dance 
with Shoulders.” 

"Ah, could you blame her?” Shoulders in- 
quired modestly. 

"Of course we’ll all go!” Missy exclaimed hur- 
riedly, to prevent further discussion. "That is, 
if Dad says so. D'o you think he’ll let me. 
Tommy?” 

"If I take you,” her brother replied, "and I 
will if you’re a real good little girl in the mean- 
time; pass the candy, please.” 

"Oh, but the Englishmen will be here,” Missy 
remembered suddenly. "What will we do with 
them? They can’t stay home and play patience 
with Aunt Tab.” 

"We’ll take them with us; that’s a scheme,” 
Shoulders suggested. "Listen, I’ve been think- 
ing quietly while you’ve been talking and I’ve 


40 


HELEN CAEEY 


come to the conclusion that the least we can do 
for those procrastinating tenderfoots is to give 
them a real western welcome.’’ 

Sandy looked up from the lariat he was weav- 
ing. mean the old tricks — blank cart- 

ridges and lots of noise, and a wild bronco — ” 

‘‘Well, something like that, without the noise,” 
Shoulders admitted. 

“They certainly deserve something after that 
false start,” Tim said, thinking of the long ride 
in the sun. 

Tom laughed. 

“Don’t be too rough on them; remember 
they’re going to buy our horses.” 

“Oh, we’ll be gentle but cordial,” laughed 
Dicky. 

“I’ve got it!” Shoulders exclaimed. “Ee- 
member the dude Mr. Price had visiting him?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, he insisted on having an English saddle 
— ^we’ll put — no, guess' I won’t tell you about it. 
Just hang around and watch me when they 
come — that’s all.” 

And though the others tried to make him tell 
his plan, Shoulders resolutely refused and there- 
by deepened the mystery. 


CHAPTER IV 


THE TENDEEFOOT ARKIVES 

A RE they here yet, Shoulders?’^ Missy 
Zjk turned Gappy loose in the corral and 
tiptoed into the barn, as though she 
expected to find the Englishmen hiding behind 
the feed box. 

Shoulders was mending an old bridle ; he looked 
up and laughed a deep chuckle of appreciation. 

‘^They are. Missy, they are,’^ he replied. 

‘‘Tenderfeetr^ Missy inquired. 

Shoulders shook his head. ^‘Not the English- 
man, ’ ’ he told her. ‘ ‘ He ^s just a plain hard man ; 
gray hair and plenty of horse sense, I gather. 
But oh. Missy, the party that’s with him!” 

‘‘Isn’t he English too?” 

“Not he — American — a real nice boy with 
pretty hair and an expensive education. And 
clothes ! Oh, Missy, he has such beautiful clothes, 
it’s goin’ to be a shame the way Jinx is going to 
mess ’em up,” Shoulders added softly. 

“But I thought Dad said — ” Missy began. 

“He did. He thought until the train pulled in 
41 


42 


HELEN CAREY 


that they were both Englishmen,’’ Shoulders in- 
terrupted. ‘‘That’s what I’ll explain if you give 
me time. It’s this way. 

“Captain Forrest, that’s the Englishman, has 
been visiting friends of his in Indiana, and he had 
the other Englishman along with him. Well, 
he’s not very healthy, see? So he gets sick at 
the last minute and has to stay with the Captain’s 
friends. Well, here’s the Captain left with the 
two tickets for Wyoming, so he gives one of them 
to the friend’s son, the beautiful Mr. Allan Webb, 
who spent last summer on the Mexican border and 
still doesn’t know a horse from a cow.” 

“Is he in the army?” Missy inquired with a 
decided show of interest. 

“He was last summer,” Shoulders admitted, 
“but he’s resting now.” 

“Is he young?” 

“He is, and he’ll never be anything else.” 

“Well, don’t be too rough on him,” Missy ad- 
vised. “I’ve got to go and wash up for dinner.” 

“ Where ’ve you been all afternoon?” Shoulders 
inquired. 

“Over at Price’s. I read the boys Henri’s 
letter, and they all chipped in for more tobacco. 
They’re riding in for the dance to-night.” 


THE TENDERFOOT ARRIVES 43 


Shoulders nodded approval, and Missy left him 
and sauntered over to the ranch house. She 
found Chink peeling potatoes on the kitchen 
porch. 

Whereas the company I” she inquired. 

“Everybody in sitting-room,’’ Chink told her. 

“Oh, bother, how will I get upstairs without 
their seeing me.” Missy looked down at her 
muddy riding habit. 

Chink raised his eyebrows and then a broad 
smile spread over his wrinkled, yellow face. 

He pointed to the slanting roof that sloped to 
within ten feet of the ground. 

“Not long ago Missy go up there,” he said. 

“Guess it’s about the only way to-day,” Missy 
replied laughingly. “Give me a lift. Chink.” 

The Chinaman held his hands together like a 
stirrup, and Missy sprang, caught the corner of 
the roof, and pulled herself up and disappeared 
by way of the window into her own room. 

She chose a white dress with cherry-colored 
ribbons at the waist and throat, and put it on 
carefully. Then she hesitated, looking at her 
own reflection in her glass. 

She twisted her dark braid into a knot at the 
back of her head and viewed the effect. It was 


44 


HELEN CAREY 


very becoming ; a little pull here and a dab there, 
so that the hair fluffed ever so little over the 
temples, decided the question. 

‘Ht^s got to go up sometime and it might as 
well to-night,’^ she said to herself. ‘‘Anyway, 
there’s company, and the boys can’t tease me.” 
She tiptoed down the hall to Aunt Tab’s room 
and helped herself to a package of hairpins. 
Then she returned and sat down before her 
bureau. 

It was not until the rest were seated that she 
went down to supper. 

Captain Forrest and Mr. Webb sat at either 
side of Mr. Carey, and Missy saw to her dismay 
that the only vacant place left at the table was 
beside the latter. 

An astonished silence greeted her entrance. 
The boys, who were silent and abashed in the 
presence of the strangers, looked up, stared for 
a full and awkward minute, and then fell to eat- 
ing their supper with considerable clashing of 
knives and plates. 

“Missy, meet Captain Forrest and Mr. Webb,” 
Mr. Carey said, and Missy nodded. Both men 
rose and bowed, and Allan Webb pulled out her 
chair — ^not a word was spoken. 

Missy was beginning to think that the worst 


THE TENDEEFOOT AEEIVES 45 

was over when Aunt Tab called from the other 
end of the long table, 

“Why, dear, youVe put your hair up. It looks 
real sweet too. What made you do itT' 

Ill-suppressed grins appeared on the faces of 
all the boys, and Missy blushed. At last she 
managed to say, 

“Why, it's so hot, Aunt Tab, and IVe often 
worn it this way at school." 

“Very sweet, my dear, very sweet," Aunt Tab 
nodded, and went on with her meal. 

“Do you go to boarding school?" Allan Webb 
inquired. Missy turned as he spoke and looked 
straight at him for the first time. He did have 
pretty hair, as Shoulders had said, and he wore 
it in a very becoming pompadour. And his 
clothes were certainly beautiful. He had on a 
tan shirt and a neat little green tie, and his coat 
was cut to show just enough of the soft tan cuffs. 

Missy looked from him to the line of gray 
flannel shirts, and smiled. 

“Yes, I go to Miss Pink's school in Philadel- 
phia, ' ' she said, most of her embarrassment gone. 

“Do you really! Now isn't that a queer co- 
incidence?" Allan exclaimed. “Was there a girl 
there named Violet Mayfield?" 

“Why, yes, do you know her?" Missy replied 


46 


HELEN CAKEY 


eagerly. ‘‘She’s awfully nice. I don’t know her 
very well, — she’s in the class ahead of mine — ^but 
she’s ever so popular at school.” 

“She’s my cousin,” Allan explained. “We 
live in the same town, that is, when I’m at hom^, 
which isn’t often. We used to be awfully great 
old pals, but I went away to college and she to 
school, and we sort of lost track of each other.” 

“Nice of her to give us something to talk about, 
isn’t it?” Missy asked, smiling. 

“Don’t you think we could have discovered an- 
other subject if we hadn’t discovered her?” Allan 
inquired softly. 

Missy wished the boys would say something; 
she had a sudden feeling of acting before an 
audience and she didn’t dare say what she 
wanted to. 

“I suppose so,” she replied. 

“What else do you suppose we would have 
talked about?” Allan persisted. 

Missy heard Shoulders laugh, although he tried 
to disguise the gurgling sound as a cough. “Oh, 
we might have talked about the dance we’re go- 
ing to,” Missy said hurriedly. “Has Dad told 
you?” 

“Yes, he was kind enough to ask me to join the 
party, ’ ’ Allan replied politely. 


THE TENDERFOOT ARRIVES 47 


‘ ^ Going Missy asked. 

‘‘Why, yes, if you want me to, and youVe sure 
I wonT be a trouble. You don’t expect to ride, 
do you?” 

“Not to-night,” Missy told him. “We some- 
times do, but I guess we’ll go in the car this 
time.” 

“That’s good news,” Allan replied gratefully. 
“Of course, I’d be a sport and go on horseback, 
if you said so, but I’ll be honest and admit that 
I’d rather make the acquaintance of my horse in 
the daylight.” 

“Do you ride?” Missy asked. 

“Oh, yes, but I’m hardly bred to er — ^well; this 
sort of riding.” He waved his hand toward the 
window. 

“Oh, you’ll like it,” Missy promised him as 
they left the table. 


CHAPTER V 


A DISCOVERY BETWEEN DANCES 

HE town of Preacher Corners had one 
main street that ended in the Preacher’s 
Corners’ hotel — a four-story, frame 
building with a stucco entrance flanked by two 
plate-glass windows. It was an old place and 
had undergone many managements and many re- 
pairs in its life. It had always served as the 
social center for the surrounding country. 

On the first floor the office and the bar divided 
the front, and tlie dining-room ran the entire 
length of the building at the back. Upstairs 
there were two small parlors and some card 
rooms for the men. A billiard table took up 
most of the space in the square hall. 

A good many guests were already there for the 
dance, before the Careys’ car arrived, and a 
varied assortment of automobiles lined the street. 

Mr. Carey, Captain Forrest and Aunt Tab had 
stayed at home, but the rest of the household had 
left directly after supper for the dance. 

Missy and Tom rode in the back of the automo- 

48 



A DISCOVERY BETWEEN DANCES 49 


bile with Allan Webb, and Ned sat in front beside 
Tim. The rest of the boys followed on horse- 
back. 

‘^My, what a lot of people!’’ Missy exclaimed 
as they stopped before the hotel. ‘‘Hurry up, 
Tommy. You show Mr. Webb where to leave his 
hat, and I’ll meet you later.” 

She ran up the stairs to the second floor and 
into one of the parlors — the room was already 
filled with girls. 

‘ ‘ Why, Missy Carey, you ’ve put your hair up I ’ ^ 
Flora Dodd cried out from the center of a group in 
front of the one looking glass. “And you look 
perfectly stunning.” 

“What a sweet dress!” some one else ex- 
claimed, “and I believe you’ve got on high heels. 

“Little Missy grown up at last,” Mrs. Dodd 
laughed. “Come here and let’s look at you.” 

Missy turned around slowly for their inspection. 
There were some of the girls she did not know. 
They were Flora’s school friends, and they were 
city girls beyond a doubt, for their clothes fluffed 
and frilled, and seemed oddly out of place beside 
Missy’s simple white frock. 

“Oh, you must meet my friends,” Flora ex- 
claimed. “I’d forgotten you didn’t know them. 
Marion Giles, Lucile George, Ethel Baxter. No, 


50 


HELEN CAREY 


this one in the pink dress is Ethel; and Jessie 
Bangs. Girls, this is Missy Carey, one of my 
neighbors and long-distance friends.’’ 

Flora was short and plump, with a broad smil- 
ing face, and a decided pug nose. Every one 
liked her for her good-natured friendliness. 

^‘How many of your boys came over?” she in- 
quired after Missy had shaken hands with all the 
girls. 

“All of them, and the Price boys are all coming 
too,” Missy replied. 

“Well, I like that! I saw Pete yesterday and 
he said he wouldn’t come for anybody!” Flora 
exclaimed. 

“You always could do anything you liked with 
those boys. Missy.” 

“Oh, all Pete needed was a little coaxing; he 
really wanted to come,” Missy laughed. 

“I’ve brought a tenderfoot along too,” she 
added. “He’s with us right now, and he wanted 
to come. I guess he can dance.” 

“Where’s he from?” Flora demanded. And 
the other girls showed a fluttering interest. 

“Indiana,” Missy told them. “He’s very nice 
and I hope he has a good time, though I’m afraid 
he’s going to be disappointed.” 

“Why?” Ethel Baxter inquired. 


A DISCOVERY BETWEEN DANCES 51 


‘'Oh, nothing, only from the questions he asked 
me I know he expects a sort of barn dance with 
Indians sitting around to give local color, Missy 
explained. 

“Well, all the men will be disappointed and go 
home if yon don’t hurry dow,” Flora’s mother 
advised. “Go along with you, you’re prinked 
enough.” 

In the dining-room below, all the tables had been 
moved out and all the chairs ranged along the 
wall. The musicians were at one end, and a bowl 
of lemonade, in charge of the hostess, at the 
other. 

Missy’s entrance with Flora and her friends 
made a decided stir. The boys came up in groups 
of twos and threes. They were a little shy of 
the city girls, and so used to Flora that they paid 
her Kttle attention. But Missy, with her hair up 
and her eyes dancing in eager anticipation, 
claimed their frankest admiration and they 
begged for dances. 

“I promised Shoulders the first one,” she said 
as Pete offered his arm, “but I’ll give you the 
next one, and, Dave, you can have the one after 
that.” 

“Where do I come in?” Dicky Barrows de- 
manded as he joined the group. “Missy, you 


52 


HELEN CAEEY 


oughter dance with your own outfit first, es- 
pecially the first time you put your hair up,’’ he 
teased. 

Missy saw Tom beckoning her from across the 
room. ‘H’ll dance with you all if I have to dance 
until six to-morrow morning,” she promised 
gayly, ‘^but I’ve got to go to Tom now.” 

Her brother greeted her with a sigh of relief 
as she came up to him. 

‘^You take care of Mr. Webb, Missy,” he said, 
and left her abruptly. 

Missy led her astonished guest over to Flora, 
and introduced him all around. At sight of the 
girls in regular dance dresses Allan gained 
courage, and when the music started he asked the 
delighted Jessie Bangs for the first dance. 

Shoulders, always one or two minutes late, 
claimed Missy, and they whirled away in a one- 
step. 

‘‘What subject can we talk about. Miss 
Carey?” he mimicked. “I think your hair looks 
so sweet up like that. Sure it won’t fall down?” 

“Shoulders, you tease, stop making fun of Mr. 
Webb, he’s awfully nice. See how well he 
dances,” Missy admonished. Shoulders looked. 

“Graceful like a fairy,” he scotfed. “No use. 
Missy, I don’t agree. Anyway, Tom told me 


A DISCOVERY BETWEEN DANCES 53 


some of the crazy questions he asked on the way 
in. He’s a tenderfoot, you can’t deny it.” 

suppose he is, Shoulders,” Missy admitted, 
*‘but he’s a nice tenderfoot anyway.” 

The dance ended without further discussion, 
and they joined the throng around the lemonade 
table. 

Missy noticed that she was standing just back 
of Allan Webb and Jessie Bangs. Every one was 
talking and laughing, and some of the men were 
jostling each other good-naturedly. 

Missy was just going to speak to them when 
she heard Allan say, ‘‘I think little Miss Carey 
is a remarkably stunning girl, don’t you?” His 
voice was low and in sharp contrast to the noise 
about him. 

“Well, she thinks you’re a tenderfoot,” came 
the reply. 

Missy shivered and looked at the back of Jessie 
Bangs’ head. It tossed a little as she repeated 
the remark of the dressing-room. 

Missy did not wait to hear more. She dragged 
the astonished Shoulders away and sat down in 
a corner of the room. 

She was horrified and furious at herself. She 
explained to Shoulders and was not in the least 
comforted by his hearty laugh. 


54 


HELEN CAEEY 


Allan Webb passed her with a cool nod, and she 
felt suddenly as if she wanted to hide, she was 
so ashamed. 

Shoulders teased her and told the tale to Pete, 
who came up to claim the next dance, and some- 
how the story got around and poor Missy was 
utterly miserable. 

Between dances the men all stood at one 
end of the room and the girls sat along one side. 
Missy chose a corner by herself. But each time 
that the music started some one of the boys came 
and insisted upon her dancing with them in spite 
of her protests that she was tired. 

She danced again with Shoulders and once with 
Tom. He cheered her up in a brotherly way by 
explaining that she was a silly kid to care, for she 
only told the truth, and that the girl was the one 
to blame. 

At last came the ordeal of dancing with Allan. 
Missy could not refuse, and she was so em- 
barrassed she could only answer yes and no to 
his remarks. To add to her misery, her hair 
began to fall down and several pins slipped out. 

She heard the music stop with heartfelt relief 
and hurried to the dressing-room to repair the 
damage. 

She found the room empty, and after she had 


A DISCOVERY BETWEEN DANCES 55 


fixed up her hair she sat down in the corner to 
think things out. 

‘‘Well, IVe certainly done it this time,’’ she 
said to herself. “Why did I ever tell that hor- 
rid girl that he was a tenderfoot, and what 
ever possessed me to put up my hair? The boys 
never wanted to dance with me so often before. 
Oh, dear, if being grown up means getting into 
mixups like this, then I’d rather stay young.” 
She jabbed a hatpin angrily into her hair, and 
straightened her belt. “Wonder what he meant 
when he said I looked stunning? Nothing much, 
I guess. Perhaps he was trying to find some 
subject to talk about to that Jessie Bangs. Well, 
he found one,” she laughed in spite of herself. 
‘ ‘ Suppose I ’d better go back downstairs or Shoul- 
ders and Ned will be up here looking for me. Oh 
land, here they come now!” 

The heavy tread of men’s boots sounded from 
the other end of the hall, and Missy hid behind 
the door. She would go back, of course, but she 
didn’t want to be pulled back. After a little she 
could distinguish the voices; they were not the 
boys, but what they were saying made her catch 
her breath. 

“I tell you, old man Carey ain’t the man to 
fool with,” some one was saying. 


56 


HELEN CAEEY 


don’t know; how can he? Didn’t you 
work it all right with Price, and him none the 
wiser?” another voice answered. And Missy 
recognized it as belonging to Fritz Schultz, the 
manager of the hotel. 

They passed her door and went on toward one 
of the card rooms at the other end of the cor- 
ridor. 

Missy stood perfectly still for a minute and 
made up her mind. Then she tiptoed after them. 
The card room was filled with men who were play- 
ing, and the room was thick with blue cigar 
smoke. 

Fritz and his companion, whom Missy recog- 
nized as Thud Sheldon, did not enter the room. 
They stood at the doorway, as if undecided 
whether to go in or not. Missy slipped down the 
hall. No one was using the billiard table, and 
the light above it was out; it was a safe hiding 
place. She held her breath as she passed in back 
of the two men; they did not see her, and she 
hurried into the shadow beyond. The rubber 
cover for the billiard table was on the floor and 
she covered the white of her dress under it as 
she crouched beneath the table. 

She was not ten feet away from the two men, 
and if they continued their talk she would be able 


A DISCOVERY BETWEEN DANCES 57 

to hear them — she waited anxiously — a hundred 
fears running through her mind. Suppose they 
decided to play billiards and discovered her 
there ! 

For a long time nothing happened; they just 
stood and watched the card players. Then Fritz 
nodded and they walked over toward her. Missy 
heard them say, 

‘‘We might as well settle that now.’’ 

One of them leaned heavily against the table; 
Missy heard it creak under his weight. 

“Well, I’m agreeable as long as I can keep out 
of Carey’s way,” Thud said gruffly. 

“I tell you that’s all right. I’ve got the men; 
all you have to do is to have your outfit with your 
horses this side of Little Gulch. The rest is as 
easy as the Price deal.” Fritz’s voice sounded 
impatient. There was a pause. 

“I’ll be there all right,” Thud said gloomily, 
“but I wish it was any man but Carey.” 

“I should think you’d be glad to get even with 
him,” Fritz exclaimed. 

Thud laughed a short, ugly laugh. “Nothing 
I’d like better,” he replied, “if I don’t get 
caught. ’ ’ 

They moved back to the doorway without more 
words and finally joined a game of poker. 


58 


HELEN CAEEY 


Missy waited until she heard the even flap of 
the cards as they played, and then stole back 
down the hall to the dressing-room. 

She took her hair down, and fixed it all over, 
thinking hard as she did it. Her dress was cov- 
ered with dust from the floor, and she shook it 
as best she could. Then she tiptoed out of the 
room and went back to the dance. 

Her eyes were shinier than ever, and, far from 
being sorry about Allan Webb, she was glad that 
she had called him a tenderfoot. 


CHAPTER VI 


NOT SUCH A TENDEEEOOT AETEE ALU 

M ISSY’S dreams that night were a 
strange confusion in which billiard 
tables, hairpins, and Thud Sheldon 
played important parts. 

When she awoke the next morning it was with 
a sense of excitement and a feeling of personal 
importance. She dressed hurriedly and went out 
to the barn. Tom was sitting on the top of the 
corral fence. He was waiting for breakfast and 
amusing himself by calling suggestions to Chink, 
who appeared at intervals on the back porch. 

Tommy,” Missy said as she came up to him, 
‘‘get down from that fence and listen to me.” 

“Why?” Tom inquired lazily. “I can listen 
just as well from up here. What’s the news?” 
Missy nodded her head mysteriously. 

“Very well, stay up there if you want to,” 
she said, “but when you hear what I’ve got to 
say you’ll very likely fall otf.” 

“I’ll take a chance,” Tom laughed. “Go 
ahead with your news.” 


69 


60 


HELEN CAREY 


’Member when I went upstairs last night to 
fix my hair?” Missy inquired with suppressed ex- 
citement. 

^^Yes.” 

‘‘Well, I heard something.” 

“What?” 

“A conversation between Fritz and Thud 
Sheldon about Dad.” Missy related what she 
had heard. 

Tom listened with growing astonishment. 

“And you got under the billiard table?” he in- 
quired incredulously. ‘‘Say, Missy, are you sure 
they didn’t see you?” 

“Of course I am,” Missy assured him. “When 
I passed the door. Thud had his back turned to- 
ward me, and you know how near-sighted Fritz 
is.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me last night?” Tom de- 
manded. 

“I didn’t get a chance; you were busy dancing, 
and I didn’t want to say anything in front of Mr. 
Webb. 

“Guess you were right; he mustn’t know, and 
neither must Captain Forrest. This is strictly 
the Carey ranch’s afPair. 

“What do you suppose they’re up to, and what 
did he mean by ‘you have your horses there’?” 


NOT SUCH A TENDERFOOT 


61 


‘‘Don’t know, but I’m going to find out. I’ll 
be at the Gulch. You’re sure he didn’t say what 
day?” 

“No, he just told him he’d let him hear. I 
suppose it’s the day our horses go. He must 
have played some trick on Price too. Tommy, 
if you go to the Gulch will you take me?” 

“You! I should say not. Why, you’re a girl, 
and this may be dangerous.” 

“Oh, all right,” Missy replied, a hurt note in 
her voice. She turned and went through the 
kitchen into the house. Not for the world would 
she have admitted how Tom’s words hurt her. 
It was the first time in their lives that he had 
ever reminded her that she was a girl and there- 
fore not eligible for risky adventures. 

“Serves me right for putting my hair up,” she 
said to her reflection in the kitchen glass. “Well, 
it’s down this morning and down it stays.” 

“Missy speak?” Chink inquired from the stove. 
“Everyting veUy bad to-day; eggs break, fire 
don’t bum. Me, I tell Mr. Tommy to stop those 
talkings. ’ ’ 

“He won’t tease you any more. Chink,” Missy 
replied. “He’s got something else to think 
about now.” 

After breakfast, Allan Webb stood on the 


62 


HELEN CAREY 


bottom rung of the corral gate. He was watch- 
ing Shoulders saddle Jinx. It was not a reassur- 
ing sight. The little bronco was objecting with 
spirit. He had been resting in the comfortable 
bam ever since his fall into the gopher hole, and 
he resented having his convalescence cut short. 

Allan watched his antics for a few minutes, 
then asked quite naturally, 

‘‘Why don^t you tie him?’^ 

Shoulders bestowed a withering glance of con- 
tempt on him in reply, and went on chasing the 
pony. 

Dicky Barrows and Sandy Morgan went to his 
assistance, and Ned leaned on the gate beside 
Allan. 

“Jinx just naturally hates a saddle,’^ he re- 
marked sorrowfully. 

Allan looked at him and smiled nervously. 

“Does he hate a rider too,^’ he inquired. 

“No, indeed, once he’s saddled he’s a regular 
lamb, or maybe I should say after he ’s mounted. ’ ’ 

“It seems to me they’re awfully rough on him. 
Now, if they tried a little gentle handling he 
might come around.” 

‘ ‘ Maybe he might. Mister, but I ’m not so sure ; 
he’d hardly understand the treatment, he’s a sus- 
picious sort of animal.” 


NOT SUCH A TENDERFOOT 


63 


‘‘Well, I^m glad I don’t have to ride him.” 

“Why, ain’t they saddling him for you?” 
Ned’s look of surprise was genuine. 

“I hope not,” Allan replied with feeling. “I 
asked Mr. Carey if I could have a half-way gentle 
animal; I never suspected he meant me to have 
this.” He looked discomfortingly at the bronco. 

“Oh, well, Jinx is gentle enough,” Ned assured 
him. “Fact is, he’s the gentlest pony on the 
ranch, barring his contrary aversion to a saddle. 
They’re fixing him for you all right.” 

Shoulders had succeeded in saddling the 
bronco by now and led him triumphantly over to 
the gate. 

“Here he is; sorry to keep you waiting,” he 
apologized, “but Jinx always is hard to saddle.” 

Allan looked from one face to the other. The 
boys were all grinning with polite interest, but 
he felt an implied criticism. He was still smart- 
ing from the memory of Missy’s words the night 
before. 

“Tha:nks,” he said shortly, and went up to 
Jinx. 

Shoulders handed the reins to him and retired 
to the fence. 

Allan patted the pony’s neck and put his hand 
on the pommel of the saddle. Jinx’s ears went 


64 


HELEN CAREY 


up and he backed around. Allan followed, but 
every time he attempted to mount, the pony would 
wheel away from him. They were soon following 
each other around in circles. 

Looks like a merry-go-round, doesnT itV’ 
Dicky asked softly. 

^^Poor old Jinx is shying at those beautiful 
white pants, Shoulders remarked. ‘‘Can’t 
blame him much, they are awful dazzling.” 

“There goes his hat,” Ned said sadly. “Poor 
man, I wonder what he thinks he’s doing?” 

It would have been hard to say, for Allan was 
still following Jinx around the corral. 

But if the cowboys thought for a moment that 
he was not alive to the ridiculousness of his posi- 
tion, they were mistaken. Allan was burning 
with suppressed wrath, but he was helpless before 
the impatient pony. 

At last, he managed to get one foot in the 
stirrup and his hand on the pommel of the saddle, 
but the wiley Jinx would permit no further ad- 
vantage. With a quick forward lunge he jumped 
aside, and when next Allan had time to think he 
was sitting in the middle of the corral, a sharp 
pain in his right ankle and a good deal of dust in 
his mouth. 

He looked around, to discover that Missy had 


NOT SUCH A TENDERFOOT 


65 


joined the group of boys and was hanging over 
the gate. Cappy grazed beside her, his reins on 
the ground. 

Allan picked himself up and smiled foolishly. 

‘^Hope you didn’t hurt yourself,” Shoulders 
said politely. 

‘‘No, not myself exactly,” he replied, “but my 
pride’s a trifle damaged. I had an idea I could 
ride, but Jinx seems to point to the contrary.” 

“Had enough for this morning?” Dicky asked. 

“Oh, no, I’m going to ride him yet,” Allan said 
cheerfully. 

A change of expression passed over the faces 
of the cowboys. Pluck and determination even in 
a tenderfoot were worthy of admiration. 

Shoulders jumped lightly off the fence. 

“I’ll bring him back here for you,” he offered, 
and went over to the now innocent and peaceful 
Jinx, who was grazing soberly in the far corner 
of the corral. 

“I’m afraid you’re pretty dusty, aren’t you?” 
Missy said, “and I hope you aren’t hurt. Per- 
haps you’d rather try my pony,” she suggested. 

“No, thanks, I’ll stick to Jinx,” Allan replied. 
“That is, as long as he’ll let me.” 

Shoulders led the pony to him and he tried once 
more, but it was the same thing over again. 


66 HELEN CAREY 

After lie had fallen for the fourth time, Missy 
went to him. 

A sudden and unexplainable wish to see him 
ride successfully had come to her. 

Jump for the saddle and don’t give Jinx time 
to know you’re there,” she whispered hurriedly; 

he ’ll be a lamb once you’re on if you give him 
his head.” 

Allan looked at her. 

‘‘Thanks, I’ll try,” he said quite humbly. 

He took the bridle from the grinning Shoul- 
ders and jumped for the saddle, but Jinx was 
ready for him, and he was a minute too late. 

“I guess I’ll get him myself this time,” he said 
to Dicky, who was ambling up to the corral after 
him. “Maybe he doesn’t like an audience.” 

He walked quietly up behind the pony and with- 
out any preliminaries vaulted lightly into the 
saddle. 

The victory was won. Jinx shied a little from 
surprise but did not attempt to buck. 

Shoulders swung the gate open and the rest of 
the boys cheered lustily. Allan touched the 
pony’s flank with his spur. Jinx reared a little 
and then broke into a run. A cloud of sunlit 
dust enveloped them a minute later as they 
dashed down the road. 


NOT SUCH A TENDERFOOT 67 

‘‘Not so bad for a tenderfoot,’’ Shoulders said 
grudgingly. “I like his grit.” 

“I think he’s splendid,” Missy exclaimed as she 
mounted Cappy. “I guess I’d better go and see 
if he’s all right though. Jinx is sure to be pretty 
lively. ’ ’ 

She rode off down the road in the direction that 
Allan had taken, but she did not catch up with 
him until she had ridden over a mile. 

Jinx had come to the conclusion that he could 
not throw his rider, and, like a sensible pony, was 
making the best of it. He was jogging along 
quite peacefully when Allan heard Cappy ’s hoof- 
beats. He turned in his saddle, saw Missy, and 
waited until she caught up with him. 

“Hello,” Missy greeted him. “Where are you 
bound for?” 

“Ask Jinx,” Allan laughed; “he’s the boss.” 

“It didn’t look like it a few minutes ago,” 
Missy replied. “You certainly got the better of 
him. You — ^you were great!” she added hon- 
estly. 

Allan looked at her without answering, and she 
knew exactly what he was thinking of. 

“Mr. Webb,” she said suddenly, “I’m sorry 
I called you a tenderfoot. I didn’t mean it, 
really. Will you excuse me, please?” 


68 


HELEN CAEEY 


‘'Of course I will/' Allan laughed. It was im- 
possible to be angry with a girl who wore her hair 
down her back, and who rode and talked like a 
boy. “I was sort of cross last night, but now that 
I know I am one — " 

“But you're not," Missy denied. “You're 
splendid. I wish I could tell you a secret, but I 
can't. If I could you'd be awfully glad I called 
you a tenderfoot." 

Then, because she was afraid she had said too 
much, she spurred Gappy to such a pace that con- 
versation was impossible until they reached the 
ranch house. 

Dinner was ready and most of the boys were in 
their places as Missy looked in on her way up- 
stairs. She heard Captain Forrest say: “If your 
men will round up the horses on Thursday, I'll 
send my men over for them. It's good of you 
to offer to drive them to the junction, but I know 
you're busy and I've already engaged my boys." 

Tom looked up and caught Missy's eye and 
winked solemnly. 



'‘'She spurred Gappy to such a pace that conversation 
was impossible.” Page 69 


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CHAPTEE VII 


PEEFARING FOB WHAT MIGHT HAPPEN 

T HUESDAY drew near and with it an at- 
mosphere of suppressed excitement per- 
vaded the Carey ranch. Shoulders 
laughed softly and patted his gun lovingly at 
odd intervals, and Ned^s voice took on a deeper 
note of sorrow. 

Mr. Carey and Tom were anxious that neither 
of their guests should suspect anything, so that 
conversation was more stilted than ever, for it is 
difficult to avoid such an all-absorbing topic. 

Allan Webb and Missy rode a good deal during 
the few days that intervened, and Captain For- 
rest with Mr. Carey selected a hundred horses for 
shipment. 

On Wednesday morning the guests left. Tim 
took them into Preacher’s Corners in the auto- 
mobile. They were going south to another ranch. 

^‘It’s been awfully nice being here,” Allan said 
as he stood on the ranch house steps beside Missy, 
^‘and you’ve been very patient with a tender- 
foot.” 


71 


72 


HELEN CAREY 


‘‘Oh dear, I wish you wouldn^t say that,’’ 
Missy protested. “You know I don’t think 
you’re a tenderfoot any more.” 

“Well, that’s good news,” Allan laughed, “but 
I guess there’s still room for improvement. I 
wish I didn’t have to say good-by so soon.” 

“I wish so too,” Missy replied, “it’s been a 
lot of fun having you here. Don’t forget you’ve 
promised to come back sometime next year.” 

“Oh, but I’m going to see you before that,” 
Allan announced confidently. “I have a little 
scheme up my sleeve that you’ll hear about one 
of these days.” 

‘ ‘ Tell me about it now. ’ ’ 

“No, indeed; it’s a dead secret, but you wait.” 

“Come along, Webb,” Captain Forrest called. 
“Good-by, Miss Carey; you’ve been very good 
to us, and good-by again, sir.” He held out his 
hand to Mr. Carey. “I am well satisfied with 
our transaction, and I hope the horses get over 
in as good condition as they are in now.” 

“They will, I can promise you that,” Mr. Carey 
replied with conviction. “And I hope they will 
be of good service to your army.” 

“Perhaps we’ll be sending over some of our 
men to teach you how to ride them. Captain,” 
Allan laughed. “They’ll have to be from this 


WHAT MIGHT HAPPEN 73 

part of the country though; I’m glad I’m in the 
infantry. ” 

We ’ll welcome them heartily when they do 
come,” the Captain answered seriously as he 
shook hands. 

^Ht won’t be long now by the looks of things,” 
Mr. Carey said. ‘‘Good-hy and good luck.” 

‘ ‘ Good-by. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Good-hy. ’ ’ 

Tim started the car and they were gone. 

Mr. Carey and Missy watched them out of sight 
and then went around to the corral where Tom 
and Shoulders were waiting. 

‘H’ll ride over to Price’s this morning, hoys, 
and tell him how things stand. I’ve an idea that 
he may be interested.” 

‘‘Of course he will,” Missy exclaimed, “be- 
cause the very thing that Thud Sheldon is going 
to do to us, he did to Mr. Price. Fritz kept re- 
minding him about it.” 

“If some of their hoys want to join us to-mor- 
row, why so much the better. I hope, though, 
there won’t he any scrap,” her father replied. 

“If they want to!” laughed Shoulders. “I’d 
like to see you keep Pete out of it once he got wind 
of what’s doing.” 

“I’m riding over to get Bronson,” Tom said, 


74 


HELEN CAEEY 


picking up the reins of his pony grazing be- 
side him. ‘‘As sheriff he’ll have to be along. 
He was grumbling the other day that the good old 
exciting times were past and gone, so this ought 
to be good news.” He swung easily into the 
saddle. 

“So-long, I’ll be back for dinner.” 

“Well, I’m off for Price’s: better keep Jinx 
and Eanger and Skittles fresh to-day. We may 
have some hard riding to-morrow,” Mr. Garey 
advised. “I’ll be back before long. Where are 
you going. Missy?” 

“Oh, just into town to see Flora,” Missy re- 
plied. “If you all are mean enough not to let me 
go with you, I’ve got to be amused somehow.” 

Her father looked at her and shook his head 
in perplexity. 

“You ought to have been a boy. Missy,” he 
said. “You certainly are material wasted, but 
you’re not one, and you can’t expect us to let you 
ride into possible danger, so put those foolish 
notions out of your head and have a nice time 
with the girls.” 

Missy received the advice and watched her 
father ride away in silence. Then she turned to 
Shoulders and stamped her foot. 

“I think it’s just a fright the way you’re all 


75 


WHAT MIGHT HAPPEN 

making me grow up,’’ she said angrily. ‘H know 
that before I went to boarding school Dad would 
have let me go.” 

‘‘He would not,” Shoulders denied. “Ah, 
Missy, don’t be so mad, it’s a darn shame you 
have to be out of the fun, but, honest, we couldn’t 
let you go along. There may be a little shooting, 
and perhaps a regular row; we don’t know what 
we’ll find and you couldn’t go.” 

He was doing his best to comfort her — ^he 
understood exactly how she felt, but whereas a 
year ago he might have listened to her teasing 
and perhaps helped her at least to watch the fun 
from a distant hill, he now felt with Tom and her 
father that she was a girl and must be diligently 
protected from danger. He didn’t stop to justify 
this new conception; perhaps the revelation of 
Missy in a new white dress with her hair up had 
wrought the change, or perhaps it had been more 
gradual. 

At any rate some of the old natural fellowship 
was gone and a new consideration took its place. 
Missy sorely resented the change. 

“If I had known how you were going to act, 
I would never have breathed a wold to any of 
you,” she protested. “I’d have gone to the 
Gulch and found out what was up myself; I’m 


76 


HELEN CAREY 


not afraid of Thud Sheldon, and I can ride and 
shoot as well as any of you; Mr. Price says so. 
Oh, if I ever hear anything like this again, just 
you catch me telling you or Tommy about it,^’ 
she added threateningly. 

Shoulders tried to reason with her, but she 
caught and saddled Gappy and rode away in an 
injured and unforgiving silence. 

She let Gappy choose his own gait on the way 
to town; she was not at all anxious to see Flora 
or her friends ; they had served only as an excuse 
to get to town and see what she could find out. 
She half hoped for another experience like the 
billiard table, anything that would give her an- 
other clue to the mysterious Thud. 

But her trip proved uneventful and uninterest- 
ing. She stayed for luncheon with Flora and 
tried to enjoy the company of the other girls, but 
her mind was too occupied with speculating on 
the coming day. She saw Fritz on Main Street 
with four or five cowboys whom she did not recog- 
nize. 

He bowed to her with more warmth than 
usually accompanied his greeting, and she put it 
down to the pricks of a guilty conscience. 

That night at dinner the plans were not dis- 
cussed, out of consideration for Aunt Tab. Mr. 


WHAT MIGHT HAPPEN 


77 


Carey knew that the gentle old lady would he 
frightened and unhappy if she shared their news, 
so he very wisely kept it from her. Later in the 
evening when she had gone to bed they settled 
the last question on the front porch. 

‘‘Price and his boys will ride toward the Gulch 
in the morning and camp a couple of miles to the 
west,’’ Mr. Carey explained. “Bronson will 
meet Tom and Shoulders and Dicky here and ride 
up from this side. I’ll go over with the rest of 
the boys and wrangle the horses. Fritz’s outfit 
will meet us at our north boundary, then we’ll 
come back to the house and take the short cut 
to the Gulch if there’s anything doing.” 

“Wonder what Fritz told Thud to have his 
horses there for?” Dicky asked, “and what’s old 
Fritz got to do with it anyway? It sure gets 
me.” 

“Fritz has been in schemes before to get money 
without working for it,” Tom replied, “but I’d 
give a good deal to know what his game is my- 
self.” 

“Fritz is a German and these horses are going 
to the English Government,” Missy said sud- 
denly. 

The others looked at her in surprise. 

“Shucks, that hasn’t anything to do with it,” 


78 HELEN CAEEY 

Sandy said at last, and the rest seemed to accept 
his word for it. 

sure do hope Thud doesn’t show the white 
feather,” Shoulders remarked cheerfully. ‘H’ll 
be real disappointed if we don’t have a friendly 
little row.” 

‘‘Row, no such luck,” Ned lamented; “more 
than likely we’ll just go on a wild goose chase. 
There’s nothing much in what Missy heard. I’ve 
figured it out that maybe Thud has sold some of 
his horses to this Captain Forrest and he’s just 
going to join the party that’s wrangling our 
drove. ’ ’ 

The rest looked at him in scorn. 

“Ned always throws cold water on a happy 
thought,” Shoulders remarked. “He just natu- 
rally hates to believe there ’s a good time ahead. ’ ’ 

The telephone rang at this point and Missy 
went in to answer it. 

“Hello,” they heard her say. “Yes, this is 
the Carey ranch; I’ll call my Father if you’ll 
hold the wire. What? Why, yes, I can take a 
message, but he’s right here. Oh, all right, yes, 
I heard you. I’m to tell him that Captain For- 
rest’s men will meet him at ten o’clock sharp at 
the north boundary. Very well, good-by. ’ ’ 

“Who was it,” Tom demanded; “Fritz?” 


WHAT MIGHT HAPPEN 


79 


“No, it wasn’t Fritz talking to me,” Missy re- 
plied, “but he was telling the other man what 
to say. I heard him. When I said that I’d call 
Dad, he said, ‘Don’t let her do that,’ and later he 
said, ‘make it ten sharp.’ ” 

“More mystery,” Shoulders chuckled. “I 
wish to-morrow was here. They certainly are 
clumsy the way they are handling their reins. ’ ’ 
“Ah, shucks,” Ned spoke from the corner of 
the porch. “I tell you, we’re all on the wrong 
track. I know there won’t be any fun to-morrow. 
You see they’ll have some slick excuse and we’ll 
feel like a package of monkeys. I’m going to 
bed,” he jumped down from the porch. “Any- 
way it’s going to rain to-morrow,” he predicted 
as he disappeared in the direction of the bunk 
house. 


CHAPTER yill 


MISSY IS JUST IN TIME 

N ED’S prediction about the weather was 
true at any rate. Thursday dawned 
with a leaden sky and a fine, persistent 

drizzle. 

Mr. Bronson, the county sheriff, rode up, soak- 
ing wet with great drops of rain dripping from 
the brim of his sombrero, but he was cheerful in 
spite of his damp condition, and hailed the rain 
as a blessing, maintaining that it would act as a 
cloak and help to keep their movements from at- 
tracting the attention of Thud and his men. 

Mr. Carey and some of his boys rode out after 
breakfast to round up the horses, and Tom, with 
Shoulders and Dicky, left an hour later with the 
sheriff. 

Missy watched them go with a feeling of rage 
and disappointment. The day stretched before 
her in an endless wait, with house work as the 
only means of making the time pass, and Aunt 
Tab as her only companion. 

She made her bed, dusted, and would have 
80 


MISSY IS JUST IN TIME 


81 


scrubbed the floor if the immaculate Chink had 
left even the shadow of dirt from his scrubbing 
of the day before. 

By eleven o’clock everything was in shining 
order, and Missy sat down to compose a letter to 
Henri. But she was so restless that she could 
not write connectedly. She kept jumping up and 
going to the window. 

‘‘What’s the matter with you, Missy!” Aunt 
Tab inquired. “You’re so fidgety; why don’t 
you sit down and read a bit!” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Missy replied. “I’m sick 
of the house. I do wish it would stop this eternal 
drizzling.” 

“Does make a body feel blue, doesn’t it!” 
Aunt Tab agreed. “I always feel a little bit 
homesick for a smell of the sea on a day like this, 
but, land sakes, it’s bound to rain sometime, and 
a body might as well just try and forget it.” 

“I suppose a body might,” Missy said with a 
little laugh, “but all the same I wish it would 
clear. ’ ’ 

She went back to her seat at the writing desk 
and tried to carry out Aunt Tab’s placid philoso- 
phy, but there is a good deal of difference between 
sixteen and sixty-nine, especially when adventure 
is calling from just around the corner. 


82 


HELEN CAEEY 


Missy gave up after dinner and announced that 
she was going out for a ride. 

‘‘Why, child, youdl get drenched/^ Aunt Tab 
objected. 

“Never mind, I can put on dry things when I 
get in, and 111 wear my rubber cape. Gappy 
loves the rain.” 

Aunt Tab shook her head and permitted herself 
a sigh of resignation, but she did not olfer further 
remonstrance. Sixteen years’ knowledge of 
Missy had taught her the uselessness of trying to 
make her change her mind once she made it up. 

Missy went up to her room, hurried into her 
oldest khaki riding skirt and boots, pulled her hat 
well down over her head, snatched her rubber 
cape, and went out of the house, singing. 

“Come on. Gappy; let’s go and see what we can 
scare up, ’ ’ she whispered in the pony ’s ear as she 
slipped on his bridle. 

Gappy apparently agreed to the suggestion for 
his ears went up and he danced impatiently until 
^ she was in the saddle and had touched him ever 
so lightly with her spur. 

Missy did not have any idea where she was 
going, but she headed the pony in the general 
direction of the Prices’ ranch. It was too early 
for the mail, but she had a hazy idea of riding 


MISSY IS JUST IN TIME 


83 


until she met the postman somewhere along his 
route. He would be some one to talk to, and any- 
thing was better than the tiresome waiting in- 
doors. 

Gappy loped along in the peculiar gait of the 
western pony that eats up the miles. 

The rain had almost stopped, and a fine misty 
drizzle took its place. Missy rather enjoyed hav- 
ing it blown in her face. 

When they reached the border line of their 
ranch Gappy turned south, but Missy wheeled him 
around and kept to the general direction. She 
was quite as at home, and quite as welcome, on 
the Prices ’ land as she was on her own. 

‘‘No you donT, Gappy,’’ she chided, as the pony 
tried to get his own way. “Over there is the 
Gulch and you and I can’t eveii look that way. 
I’ve thought it all out; we could go up to Flat 
Eock and have a little look of course, and equally, 
of course, it’s mean and unreasonable of them 
not to let us in on the fun, but we’re not going 
to do it. We’ll stay over here where there’s no 
chance of even seeing a stray rabbit.” 

Gappy obeyed, and for several miles they trav- 
eled along without even a change of gait. They 
were cutting diagonally across the end of the 
Price ranch. It was a stony, uneven bit of land 


84 


HELEN CAREY 


and made a poor pasture ; few of the cattle even 
wandered there in their grazing. Missy knew 
that about two miles beyond — as the crow flies — 
they would strike an old road that was seldom 
used now. It ran parallel with the Price east 
boundary line for a few miles, and then lost itself 
in the plain beyond. In the other direction it 
joined the state road at a point beyond the mail 
boxes. 

“Let’s make it, Gappy,” she said aloud to the 
pony. “You’re covering me with mud and I 
don’t like it. Never mind the draw; I know it’s a 
fright, but you won’t slip.” 

A draw is a deep crevice in the earth, and this 
one was particularly steep. It looked as if a 
great piece of the earth had been thrown up, 
probably in the upheavals of by-gone ages, and it 
had left a hollow like a well in the middle of the 
rolling plain. There were many of them in the 
surrounding country, but none of them were quite 
as deep and difficult to pass. 

Missy stopped her pony and considered before 
venturing down the path of sorts that led cross- 
wise to the bottom. A path went up the other 
side in like manner and came out on a broad 
plateau. 

“Oh, come on. Gappy; we might as well have 


MISSY IS JUST IN TIME 


85 


some excitement/’ she exclaimed. Let’s go 
down.” She urged the pony to the edge of the 
bank and then let him go his own way. He picked 
his steps gingerly, but with a sure-footed cer- 
tainty, and reached the bottom safely. 

‘‘Good old fellow,” Missy patted his neck. 
“Now scramble up the other side.” 

Gappy scrambled ; it was steep, and little pieces 
or rock and dirt broke off from under his hoofs 
and went scuttling down the bottom as he strug- 
gled up, but he gained the top without a stumble 
and stood panting. 

“Poor Gappy, that was sort of mean, wasn’t 
it,” Missy said remorsefully, “but it’s all over 
now.” Gappy paid no attention to her petting, 
his ears went forward, and he gave a startled 
little whinny. 

Missy looked about her in surprise; she was 
out of the saddle in a second. It was an unfre- 
quented part of the country and she was alert to 
the possibility of danger. 

“Oh, Gappy, what have we gotten into?” she 
whispered, “surely it can’t be a bear so near the 
road.” She slipped the reins over the pony’s 
head and left him to investigate. 

A big rock fifty feet away offered a sort of look- 
out and she hurried to it. She was not really 


86 


HELEN CAREY 


frightened, but she encouraged the idea that a 
bear was prowling around in the vicinity. She 
looked about her and started again for the rock. 
Her foot hit something hard and she stumbled. 
She looked down. A big black-muzzled revolver 
lay in the mud. 

It was a sudden change from the game of pre- 
tend to the real, and Missy trembled ever so little 
before she could collect her thoughts. She picked 
up the gun and looked at it. It was easy to see 
it had not been in its present place for long. She 
examined the chambers ; one was empty. 

The drip, drip of the rain and the wind in the 
aspen trees made a confusion of sounds, and she 
could distinguish nothing as she listened intently. 
With the gun in her belt she climbed gingerly up 
the rock. When she reached the top she lay 
down flat and crawled to the edge. She saw the 
old road forty feet below. She looked ’down; 
there was nothing directly beneath her, but 
farther along to the right she saw two men. 
They had evidently dismounted, for their horses 
were standing at the side of the road. 

They were leaning over something; Missy 
could not discover what it was at first, but as her 
eyes became accustomed to the distance she saw 
that it was a limp form. The group was quite 


MISSY IS JUST IN TIME 


87 


a little way beyond her, but something in the 
way one of the men stood made her think it was 
Thud Sheldon. 

‘^Oh, dear, what shall I do, something dreadful 
has happened,’’ she thought hurriedly, then she 
looked again at the two men ; they were lifting up 
the body. 

^‘If they ride away with him I’m lost,” Missy 
thought excitedly, but the men did not go toward 
their horses; instead one of them pointed in her 
direction. 

Missy thought quickly. She led Gappy to the 
other side of the bowlder, out of sight, and threw 
her cape over his head, then she stole softly along 
the ridge. The ground sloped down from the 
rock on both sides so that the ascent from the road 
farther on was very much less at that point. 

Missy heard the men trudging up with their 
burden ; they would be within sight in a minute — 
she looked hurriedly about — a clump of aspen 
growing half way down the bank caught her eye; 
their branches just showed above the ledge of the 
draw. She slid down the trunk of the largest one, 
trusting to the roots to hold her. She found a 
secure footing and kept her head just below the 
top of the bank. She was not a minute too soon 
for the men were in sight. 


88 


HELEN CAREY 


think he’s dead,” she heard one of them 
grumble, as the heavy foot-falls grew near. 
‘‘What’s the use of lugging him away up here?” 

“He’s not dead,” the other voice denied; “he’s 
only stunned. I can feel his heart beat.” 

Missy recognized the voice ; she had been right 
in her guess. One of the men was Thud Sheldon. 

They rested the body on the ground. 

“Who is he anyway?” the first voice inquired. 

Missy listened intently, then she grew cold with 
terror as Thud Sheldon answered, 

“Shoulders Fielding of the Carey outfit. 
That’s why I won’t take any chances; dead men 
tell no tales. If we roll him down the draw he ’ll 
break every bone in his body, and if they find him 
they’ll think he fell.” 

“Well, let’s get it over with.” 

Missy heard, rather than saw, the two men pick 
up the body and approach the bank. Her hand 
tightened on the handle of the gun. There was 
a terrible pause, then the footsteps came nearer. 

“Well, come on, just roll — ” 

Thud Sheldon’s directions stopped abruptly, 
for a voice from the draw interrupted him with: 

“Not to-day, Mr. Sheldon.” And he found 
himself looking into the muzzle of Missy’s gun. 



“ ^Not to-day, Mr. Sheldon.^ And he found himself 
looking into the muzzle of Missy gun.” Page 89 






y 



CHAPTER IX 


THE HOLD UP 

‘ ‘ T"^UT your hands up, please, both of you, 
and keep them up,” Missy directed as 
she climbed to the top of the bank and 
covered the two astonished men with her gun. 

‘‘Don’t shoot!” Thud Sheldon exclaimed ner- 
vously; “we’ll keep ’em up.” 

A gun in the hand of a woman has often been 
known to cower the most courageous of men. 
She is so apt to be reckless with it and let it go 
off without notice, but there was no cause to be 
afraid of Missy; she was in complete control of 
herself and the situation. She sat down beside 
Shoulders and with her left hand managed to un- 
tie the handkerchief that he wore around his neck. 
She kept her eyes on the two men, however. 

“You see I’m alone and you’re two to one,” 
she said calmly, “so if either of you make the 
slightest move I’ll be obliged to shoot.” Thud 
pretended innocence. 

“Oh, we won’t move, Miss Carey, if you say 
so, but what’s the ideal” he asked. “We haven’t 

91 


92 


HELEN CAREY 


been doing anything; we found your cow puncher 
half dead on the road down there and we thought 
we’d bring him up here and — and — ” 

‘‘And throw him down the draw,” Missy fin- 
ished for him. “Yes, I heard all about it — ‘Dead 
men tell no tales’ — Just ask your friend to put 
his hands up straight, they look foolish that 
way.” The friend stiffened his arms at once, 
and growled angrily. 

“What you going to do with us?” 

Missy considered the subject in silence for a 
few minutes. “I haven’t decided exactly. If 
Shoulders is only stunned he’ll be coming around 
after a while. If he doesn’t, why we’ll just have 
to wait until somebody finds us.” 

“There’s not much chance of that,” Thud an- 
swered sullenly, “and little girls get sleepy and 
frightened when night comes,” he added threat- 
eningly. 

Missy forced herself to laugh quite naturally. 

“I wouldn’t try bullying if I were you, Mr. 
Thud Sheldon,” she said. 

“Well, what are you going to do when night 
does come?” Thud persisted. 

“Reckon I’ll find a way out,” Missy replied 
confidently. “Maybe I’ll try your plan. If the 
bottom of the draw was a good place for Shoul- 


THE HOLD UP 


93 


ders why wouldn’t it be for you? If it gets late 
maybe I’ll have to ask you just to roll yourselves 
down. ’ ’ 

‘‘Well, you can ask,” Thud replied furiously. 
“If you think I’m going to let a kid with her hair 
down her back get the better of me you’re mighty 
mistaken.” 

Missy pushed her gun a little nearer toward 
him. 

“Keep still,” she commanded shortly, “I don’t 
want to hear another word from either of you, and 
keep your hands up higher.” The men settled 
into gloomy silence, and the minutes wore on. 

Missy thought rapidly. She knew Thud would 
try any means of throwing her off her guard, so 
that she was not surprised when a little later he 
suddenly exclaimed, 

“Look!’^ 

“I thought I told you to keep still,” Missy re- 
plied calmly, never taking her eyes off the two 
pairs of hands. “You can’t startle me, so don’t 
try. If you say that again I’ll shoot first and 
look afterwards,” she added to be on the safe 
side. 

There was another long silence and then 
Shoulders moved. Missy felt his body roll toward 
her, but she did not dare look at him. 


94 


HELEN CAEEY 


‘‘Shoulders/’ she said sharply, “if you are con- 
scious say something.” She felt the body move 
again, and then heard the grateful word, 

“Missy.” 

Shoulders sat up and rubbed his head. He had 
been badly stunned and his mind was confused. 
He looked down at his hand ; it was limp, and he 
was conscious that it hurt him awfully. Then 
he heard Missy’s voice again, 

“Try and come to, Shoulders, please. Can’t 
you remember? You must have fought with 
Thud Sheldon and rolled down the hill,” she said. 

Shoulders looked dazedly about. He saw the 
two men for the first time and his mind cleared. 
He got to his feet and swayed uncertainly. 

“How did you happen along. Missy!” he asked 
wonderingly. 

“There’s no time to explain now. Sit still and 
tell me what happened to you,” Missy replied. 
“Your hands a little higher, please, Mr. Sheldon, 
and your friend too,” she added as she saw 
Thud’s elbows bend ever so slightly. 

Shoulders smiled in spite of the ache in his 
head and the sharp pains in his wrist. He sat 
down again before answering Missy. 

“There must have been a mistake somewhere,” 
he began slowly as memory returned to him, “any 


THE HOLD UP 


95 


way here’s what happened. We got to the Gulch 
and waited for hours. Your Dad and the rest of 
the boys joined us, and the Price outfit were on 
the other side, but nothing happened. We began 
to think you’d gotten the facts mixed so we di- 
vided and went out to find out where Thud was. 
I came along the pike, and just as I passed the 
beginning of this road I heard a noise, so I left 
Jinx and crawled up here to that rock yonder. 
There were two droves of horses in the road, ours 
and Thud’s, and a bunch of men were rounding 
them up. Thud was right below me, and I made 
a noise and he looked up. We both fired at the 
same time. I missed him, worse luck.” Shoul- 
ders cast a hateful glance at the smiling Thud 
and went on, 

‘‘He hit my right hand and I guess I dropped 
my gun. I ’m a bit hazy about the rest ; anyway I 
think I tried to get away and I stumbled, and 
that ’s about all, till just now. ’ ’ 

“Well, I happened along just about right, 
didn’t I?” Missy replied. “I found your gun, 
but there’s no time to talk; Capp’s over there 
behind that rock. You ride back and bring some 
of the boys over quick.” 

“What, leave you alone with these cattle 
thieves?” Shoulders demanded. “I guess not.” 


96 


HELEN CAREY 


‘‘Don’t be foolish; I’ve covered ’em till now 
when I thought you were dying beside me. Cer- 
tainly you can’t hold a gun with that hand,” 
Missy reminded him. “You’ll have to go.” 

Shoulders had to admit the sense of her argu- 
ment. 

“I’ll take their guns from them before I leave,” 
he said. ‘ ‘ Here, you better keep ’em beside you. ’ ’ 
He pulled the heavy revolvers from their holsters 
and handed them to Missy. 

Then he found Cappy and mounted shakily. 
“I’ll send the first bunch I meet here, and then 
round up some to find out where the horses went 
to. Thud’s went to the Junction, that’s an easy 
guess, and I suppose ours are over being re- 
branded on his ranch. ’ ’ 

“How do you know?” Missy demanded, sur- 
prised. 

“Oh, I saw ’em swap droves before I fired,” 
Shoulders explained. “Well, I’m off; don’t you 
blink an eye till I get back. ’ ’ He wheeled Cappy 
around and started for the road at a breakneck 
speed. 

The mystery was solved. Missy turned an- 
grily to Thud. “You’re a nice sort of an Ameri- 
can, aren’t you?” she demanded. “I never 
heard of such a low down, mean, underhand trick. 


THE HOLD UP 


97 


You^d steal our horses and let your mangy worth- 
less, half-starved animals go in their place. 
ThaUs why youVe been so prosperous lately, is 
it? That's the trick you played on Mr. Price, I 
suppose. Oh, don't look so surprised, I heard 
you talking to Fritz about it the other night of the 
dance. I was under the billiard table." 

Thud started violently. Pear was taking pos- 
session of him. 

‘‘Don't you move," Missy commanded, her 
righteous anger carrying her on. ‘ ‘ I heard every 
word you both said. Did Fritz put the idea into 
your head? Tell me, hurry up, out with it!" 

Thud shifted from one foot to the other. 

“Will you let me go if I tell what I know?" he 
asked slyly. 

“No I won't," Missy refused flatly. “But you 
tell me anyhow or it'll be the worse for you." 

“Tell her. Thud," his companion said gloom- 
ily. “You might as well." 

“Then Fritz did put me up to it," Thud an- 
swered sullenly. “He told me that Price’s horses 
were better than mine and that if I'd keep still 
about it he'd arrange an exchange on the way to 
the Junction, because he knew the men that were 
wrangling the horses for the Englishmen, and 
they'd do what he told 'em. I held out at first 


98 


HELEN CAREY 


because I didn’t see how I could keep it dark, but 
he told me that after awhile I could sell the horses 
to the Imperial German Government and make a 
big profit. He thought of having the dollar sign 
for a brand too, so that I could rebrand the horses 
when I got ’em. You can change almost any 
letter into a dollar sign,” he said proudly. ‘‘It 
worked with Price’s fine,” he continued, “but I 
knew your Dad would get wind of it ; I told Fritz 
so.” 

“Yes, I heard you,” Missy said dryly. “Well, 
you should have stuck to your point; now you’re 
in for it, and I hope they give you plenty of time 
to think over what you’ve done.” 

“Ah, it wasn’t so awful,” the other man pro- 
tested feebly. “It ain’t as bad as cattle stealing; 
Fritz said so.” 

“Not so bad! It’s a thousand times worse,” 
Missy exclaimed. “You’ve been helping the 
Germans, that’s what you’ve been doing, and 
you’ll be arrested as spies along with Fritz. 
Can’t you see that he was sending over bad 
horses? Horses that were not worth the grain 
they ate to the English army, besides giving a 
dishonest name to the cattle men around here,” 
Missy paused for breath. “Oh, but I’m glad I 
found you out,” she said solemnly. 


THE HOLD UP 


99 


The men had nothing to say. They had food 
for thought and they were trying to digest it. 

After a little time they heard a shot. It came 
from the road below. Missy picked up one of the 
guns and fired it with her left hand. The signal 
was answered by a shout from the road below, 
and almost immediately Tom appeared over the 
hill. He was followed by Dicky and Sandy. 
The horses were covered with lather and their 
faces were strained and white. 

Sandy pulled his gun at sight of the two men, 
and Tom jumped from his saddle and ran to his 
sister. 

Missy, you^re all right!’’ he exclaimed, a dry 
sob in his voice. 

Missy dropped her gun and stumbled into his 
arms. The reaction had come now that the strain 
was over. She found time to be afraid. 

‘ ‘ Oh, Tommy, ’ ’ she sobbed, ‘ ‘ I ’m so glad you ’ve 
come, I’m so tired. I — I guess I’m only a girl 
after all.” 

‘‘You’re a little thoroughbred,” Tom said af- 
fectionately, and he held her tight in his arms. 


CHAPTER X 


MISSY RECEIVES CONGRATULATIONS 

S houlders lay on the sofa in the front 
sitting-room, as befitted the wounded hero, 
and Missy sat beside him. 

It was Friday morning and the* events of the 
day before had been untangled and explained as 
each of the chief actors told their part of the tale. 

Missy ^s easily won the laurel wreath, for she 
had appeared at the critical moment, and but for 
her timely intervention the outcome might have 
been disastrous in the extreme. 

“You saved my life. Missy,” Shoulders said 
solemnly, as he peeked from under the wet cloth 
that Aunt Tab had insisted upon putting on his 
bruised head. “Think of it; if you hadn^t been 
there, I might have been all busted up at the bot- 
tom of the draw.” 

“Ugh! Don’t talk about it,” Missy begged, 
turned cold when I heard them getting ready 
to roll you over. I wish Dad would come back 
and tell us what’s happened. He’s been gone an 
100 


EECEIVES CONGRATULATIONS 101 


age. ^ ^ She got up and looked out of the window. 

‘‘Here conies Mr. Price and Pete/’ she ex- 
claimed. “They’ll know something.” 

Mr. Price and Pete rode around to the corral, 
left their horses and tramped into the living-room 
by way of the kitchen. 

“Missy, you wonderful girl, you!” Mr. Price 
wrung her hands heartily. “Come here and tell 
me all about it. Why, bless my soul, it’s the finest 
thing that’s happened in an age in this sleepy 
place. And to think of our little Missy just coolly 
holding up two full-sized men, not to mention sav- 
ing your life. Shoulders ! Lands sake’s alive, it’s 
extraordinary, simply extraordinary. Tell me all 
about it. When I think of those mangy coyotes of 
Thud Sheldon’s masquerading as my stock, I get 
so hopping mad.” 

Mr. Price talked on excitedly without pausing 
for breath long enough to give Missy time to “tell 
him all about it,” as he insisted that she must, at 
frequent intervals. 

“I’ve written a letter to that Englishman and 
explained, and I’m sending my horses that I got 
back this morning from Thud’s place, on to New 
York as a sort of peace offering.” 

“Did Dad catch Captain Forrest by tele- 
gram?” Missy asked at last. “Do tell us what’s 


102 HELEN CAREY 

going on. Shoulders and I are both dying of 
curiosity. ’ ’ 

‘‘You tell her, Pete; youVe been in to town,” 
Mr. Price replied. “I get so fighting mad when I 
think of it I don’t do anything but sputter.” 

Pete grinned and winked mischievously at 
Missy. He had listened to those sputterings all 
the way over. 

“Last thing I heard,” he said, “was that Fritz 
was in jail with Thud and six of the cow punchers 
held on the charge of cattle stealing and about 
fifty other things. Bronson’s enjoying it, I can 
tell you. Every once in awhile he thinks of some 
new names he can add, that fit the crime, and he 
goes and adds it to the charge.” 

“ Where ’d they find our horses?” Shoulders 
asked impatiently. 

“Up in a corner of Thud’s place; he’d built a 
nice little shed for the branding and everything 
was all ready. His outfit was some surprised 
when we rode up and interrupted their little game 
of poker. Guess they left you for dead, Shoul- 
ders,” he grinned. “Anyway, you don’t need to 
fret, the boys are driving the horses down to-day 
with ours.” 

“Tell us about Captain Forrest,” Missy asked. 
“Did Dad catch him?” 


EECEIVES CONGRATULATIONS 103 


‘‘Yes, he hadnT left the State; he’s down at a 
ranch south of here, and he’s coming back here 
to-morrow. He wired your Dad at the hotel. 
He’s got to come up and give his testimony.” 

“I told you Fritz was a spy,” Missy said, “and 
you wouldn’t have it, you all said, ‘Shucks.’ ” 

“Oh, that’s right, rub it in,” Shoulders teased; 
“of course you knew all the time, and of course 
you were right, but what I’d like to know is how 
you happened to ride over to the draw. Of all 
the unlikely places on a rainy day, that’s the 
worst fright of all.” 

“I was looking for some excitement,” Missy 
replied. 

Mr. Price shook his head, and the two boys 
agreed with his unspoken thought that the ways 
of girls are difficult to fathom. 

“Well, you sure found what you were looking 
for then,” Pete said finally. 

Aunt Tab entered the room ; she was carrying a 
tray with a napkin over it, and she was walking 
on tiptoe. It was seldom that any of the boys 
on the ranch were sick enough to need her care 
and when they were she made the most of it. 

“Lands sake! You mustn’t stay in here and 
get Shoulders all excited,” she exclaimed. 
“He’s got a fever and he must be quiet. I’ll 


104 


HELEN CAREY 


have to ask you all to go out on the porch/’ she 
declared quietly but so firmly that they all left 
without a word. 

Two days later Captain Forrest and Allan 
Webb returned to the ranch. Missy was writing 
the long-delayed answer to Henri when they drove 
up in the automobile with her father and Tom. 

She went out on the steps to meet them. 

‘^How do you do, Captain,” she said as Captain 
Forrest stepped out of the car first. ‘Ht’s ever 
so nice to have you back with us. ’ ’ 

^Ht’s ever so nice to be back. Miss Carey,” the 
Captain replied, bowing, ‘‘and it is an honor to 
shake the hand of such a splendid and plucky 
young lady. You must accept my sincere con- 
gratulations and my warmest thanks; you have 
rendered a very valuable service to your country 
and mine.” 

It was a long speech and the Captain held 
Missy’s hand all the time he was talking. 

She was so embarrassed, and yet so proud and 
happy, that two big tears rolled down her cheeks, 
and she did not even bother to wipe them away. 

Captain Forrest turned to Mr. Carey. “You 
must be a very proud father,” he said, smiling. 
“I almost envy you.” 

“Well, we do think it was a pretty risky thing 


EECEIVES CONGEATULATIONS 105 


for a girl to do all by herself, but then that^s 
natural we should,’^ Mr. Carey replied quietly. 

“I think you’re a winner,” Allan Webb said 
impulsively as he took Missy’s hand and shook it, 
^‘and I don’t think they’re making half enough 
fuss about you.” 

‘‘Nonsense, I didn’t do anything I didn’t have 
to do. I couldn’t very well let them throw 
Shoulders over the bank before my very eyes, 
could I?” Missy asked, laughing, as she led the 
way to the sitting-room, much to the embarrass- 
ment of Shoulders who came in for his share of 
thanks and praise. 

“I say, Miss Carey, if I get into my riding 
clothes do you think Jinx and Cappy would mind 
going for a little ride!” Allan asked after the 
greetings were all over and they were on the front 
porch together. 

“Not if it’s a very short one,” Missy replied. 
“Cappy was pretty tired, but he’s had a long 
rest so he’s fit to ride. Hurry up and we’ll go.” 

“Where to!” she inquired a few minutes later 
when they were both in the saddle. 

“Why, let’s go over and have a look at the 
draw,” Allan suggested. “I’d like to view the 
scene of the battle, particularly in company with 
the heroine of the day. ’ ’ 


106 


HELEN CAEEY 


They started in the direction of the Price ranch 
and Missy told him why she had chosen this way 
on the fatal evening. 

She made Allan tell her all he knew about the 
great war. They rode slowly so that conversa- 
tion was possible. 

It was a glorious day. The big range of moun- 
tains rose majestic against the indigo blue of the 
sky, and the brilliant sunshine covered the plains 
and brought out the colors of the wild flowers. 

They reached the draw in time, and Missy felt 
like a guide as she showed and explained the dif- 
ferent spots that had been of such importance two 
days before. 

‘‘I think Ifll take a leaf of that aspen tree and 
keep it,’^ Allan said seriously. He was standing 
on the edge of the draw. ‘‘It certainly fulfllled 
a destiny when it decided to grow by the skin of 
its roots on that bank, didn’t it!” 

Missy laughed. “I thought so when I slid 
down into its comforting shelter,” she replied. 

It was late when they reached the home pasture. 

On their return they had been silent for the 
greater part of the way for the ponies had gal- 
loped hard. 

Suddenly Allan pulled Jinx into a walk. 

“Say, Missy,” he said suddenly, “are you ca- 


RECEIVES CONGRATULATIONS 107 


pable of standing another shock?’’ he inquired. 

‘‘Yes, anything,” Missy laughed in reply, 
“only don’t be surprised if I don’t act surprised. 
I feel as though nothing could really ever shock 
me again.” 

“Well, maybe this won’t, but it did me when I 
heard it, and I’d been expecting it, and waiting 
for it for over a year,” Allan said mysteriously. 

“What is it? You’re making me curious.” 

“Just this. The United States is going to de- 
clare war on Germany. Of course, we all knew 
it would come some day, but doesn’t it give you a 
tiny little shock to think it’s really about to hap- 
pen?” 

“When?” 

“Within a day or two.” 

Missy’s brain whirled as she tried to grasp the 
significance of the words. 

The past week had been a busy one at the ranch 
and the papers had been neglected. 

“Are you sure?” she asked presently. 

“Positive, Captain Forrest heard semi-of- 
ficially,” Allan said. “I’m going back to-mor- 
row. ’ ’ 

“I suppose Tommy will go,” Missy said slowly. 
“But, oh, Allan, I’m glad, glad, glad we’ve done it 
at last!” 


CHAPTER XI 


VOLUNTEERS 

T he formal declaration of war that followed 
a few days after Allan Webb’s prophecy 
to Missy bad a complicated and varied 
effect on the Carey ranch. Most of the boys ac- 
cepted the news with characteristic calm and de- 
cided to wait until the country called them, before 
going into the service. But Tom and Shoulders 
and several other men from the surrounding 
country, who were more venturesome, left one 
day for the city, fifty miles south, and returned 
in a week, ‘‘soldiers.” 

Missy, after the first few days of bewilderment 
and readjustment, plunged into a very whirlwind 
of activity. A Red Cross Unit was organized in 
Preacher’s Corners, and because she was the 
heroine of the hour, she was elected head of the 
Junior Branch. 

One morning, as she sat at the head of the long 
table that was piled high with gauze bandages, 
she counted the girls present, and found to her 

dismay that there were only seven. 

108 


VOLUNTEERS 


109 


The Red Cross headquarters were the front sit- 
ting-room of the Dodds ’ house on Main Street. 

‘^WhaUs the matter with everybody to-day 
she asked. ‘‘I never saw such sleepy, lazy peo- 
ple in all my life. Flora, I wish you^d wake up 
and look at that dressing you’re making; it’s all 
raw edges and fuzz.” 

Flora, whose thoughts had been elsewhere, re- 
turned to her work with a start. 

‘‘I was busy thinking of something. Missy,” 
she explained, ‘‘and I sort of forgot what I was 
doing. These things are so pesky.” 

“What were you thinking off” Grace Hollis 
asked. She was a friend of Missy’s and lived on 
a ranch seven miles south of the town. She rode 
in three days a week with praiseworthy regu- 
larity. 

“I was thinking of the boys going way over 
there to France with no one to really take care 
of them,” Flora said sentimentally. 

“Well, you’d better think of them over there 
wounded in a hospital with no dressings and no 
bandages,” was Missy’s practical reply. 

“It’s a perfect crime the way the girls around 
here won’t come and work. We simply must do 
something about it.” 

“Oh, they’ll come after this week, fast enough.” 


110 


HELEN CAEEY 


Grace laughed. ‘‘Just now, they’re so excited 
over the boys that they can’t settle down to any- 
thing.” 

“Which reminds me I have a scheme to offer,” 
Missy announced. “The boys are going away 
next week and I think we ought to give them some 
kind of a send-off.” She paused ; the words acted 
as a stimulant on the rest of the girls. 

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. What shall 
we do!’^ Flora demanded. 

“Why donT you have a dance?” Jessie Bangs 
suggested. 

She was the only one of Flora’s school friends 
who was still with her. 

“Oh, the boys are tired of dancing,’^ Grace pro- 
tested. “Let’s think of something new.” 

“Is that Mr. Webb coming back to your ranch, 
Miss Carey?” Jessie asked. 

“No, indeed,” Missy replied. “He’s gone for 
good this time. He was an officer, you know, in 
the National Guard, so of course he had to hurry 
home as soon as this happened.” 

“Oh, gracious! do you think he’ll go to France 
right away?” 

“I donT know; he said he hoped he would; he’s 
promised to bring me the Kaiser’s sword as a 
souvenir,” Missy laughed. “I hope he does,” 


VOLUNTEERS 


111 


‘‘But that isn’t making plans for the send-off,” 
Flora objected. “Have you an idea, Missy?” 

“Just the beginning of one. I thought maybe 
we could have a big, all-day picnic, with games 
and a riding contest. The boys all love that, you 
know, and we might have prizes.” 

“Great! I think that’s the very thing,” Grace 
said enthusiastically, and the rest of the girls 
agreed. 

“Now who will we ask?” 

Missy considered for the length of time that 
it took her to make a dressing, then she said 
slowly : 

“Well, I’ll tell you. I think it would be more 
fun to have a crowd, but then that wouldn’t be a 
regular special send-off to the boys who are going. 
I’ve counted up, and I think there are about 
twenty men from around here who have enlisted. 
Of course, we can ask some of the older men, like 
Mr. Price and Grace’s father and Dad; they’d 
have to help us out, but shall we ask the rest of the 
boys?” 

“No,” several voices replied in chorus. 

“Let’s just keep it for the soldiers. Now, how 
about the girls. We’ll all go of course, but we’re 
not half enough,” Grace said. 

“I know it,” Missy admitted, “but I just nat- 


112 


HELEN CAREY 


urally hate to think of the girls that aren’t doing 
a thing having all the fun. ’ ’ 

The others agreed with her, but no one could 
offer any suggestion. It was not until the next 
day that Missy hit upon an idea. 

She was out in the saddle barn talking to Ned 
when it came to her, and she hurried into the 
house to the telephone and called up Flora. 

‘‘Hello! Is that you. Flora?” she exclaimed 
when the answering hello came over the wire. 

“This is Missy, and I’ve the greatest idea for 
the party; do listen, it’s about the girls. I’ve 
thought up a joke we can play on them, and — 
what? — oh, all right, I won’t tell you over the 
’phone then. Who do you suppose it is listening? 
I’ll tell you what to do. Get Grace to come in to 
your house this afternoon and I’ll ride in right 
away, then we can talk about it. Yes, I’ll come 
straight otf. Good-by.” 

She hung up the receiver and looked out of the 
window just in time to see a sombrero bob down 
out of sight. Enough of it appeared again above 
the sill for her to know that the wearer was still 
hiding under the window. She tiptoed across the 
room and peeked out. 

Ned was crouched under the window, pressed 
against the side of the house; his hat obstructed 


VOLUNTEERS 


113 


his view so that he did not see Missy. She 
laughed softly to herself and very deftly pinched 
the crown of his hat between her fingers ; then she 
waited. 

Ned, who had obviously been playing eaves- 
dropper, listened a few seconds longer and then 
started to go. He walked right away from his 
hat, which Missy held firmly; the surprise made 
him straighten up and he looked guiltily at her. 

‘‘Ha! ha! Mr. Ned, I’d like to know what you 
were trying to do?” she asked laughingly. 
“You’re as bad as the ostrich, when he puts his 
head in the sand he thinks no one can see him. 
Now don’t pretend you were weeding Aunt Tab’s 
flower bed,” she added, as Ned protested, “be- 
cause I know you were listening to my conver- 
sation over the ’phone. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Oh, well, what if I was ? ” he answered sheep- 
ishly; “you’ve been so almighty mysterious 
lately, and we wanted to know what it was all 
about.” 

“Oh, Ned, of all the Mister Curiosities, but 
you didn’t find out, did you?” Missy laughed. 

“No, but just the same I’ve got my suspicions. 
You and Flora are getting up something, aren’t 
you, now?” 

Missy rested her elbows on the window sill and 


114 


HELEN CAREY 


her chin in the palm of her hands. Her eyes 
danced mischievously as she answered seriously. 

‘‘Yes, we are, Ned, but it^s a secret, and IVe 
promised faithfully not to tell.’^ 

Ned wanted to pretend indifference, but his cu- 
riosity got the better of him. 

“Oh, you needn’t tell me,” he replied, “but say. 
Missy, couldn’t you give me a little hint?” 

“No, I don’t think I could, Ned, but if you 
asked some questions, and they weren’t too near, 
why I might answer them,” she teased. 

“Well, has it got anything to do with the 
boys?” 

“What boys?” Missy parried. 

“Oh, us, and maybe the Price outfit.” 

“Um — yes — some of them.” 

“Only some of them?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” 

“I can’t tell you that.” 

“Well, are we going to get asked to some- 
thing?” 

“Oh, now you’re getting too hot,” Missy pro- 
tested hurriedly. 

Ned nodded his head wisely. 

“Then that means we are,” he decided. 

“Why do you say we?” Missy inquired. “I 


VOLUNTEEES 


115 


said only some of the boys, but IVe told you too 
much already, and I won’t answer a single other 
question, so don’t ask me.” 

She jumped lightly through the window and ran 
to the corral, and without another word saddled 
Cappy and started for town. 

Ned watched her suspiciously. She had told 
him just enough to heighten his curiosity, and he 
determined to discover the rest. The sound of 
Aunt Tab ’s voice coming from the direction of the 
kitchen gave him an idea, and he went to her. 
She had just finished baking three good-sized pies, 
and their delicious smell diverted Ned’s thoughts, 
but only for a moment. 

‘‘Say, Miss Tab,” he said coaxingly, “do you 
know what Missy is up to?” 

Miss Tab smiled knowingly. “Well, I do know 
part of the idea, Ned,” she admitted. 

“She and the other girls are getting up a dance, 
aren’t they?” Ned hazarded, and Miss Tab fell 
into his trap. 

“Land sakes!” she exclaimed, “I didn’t know 
it was a dance; I thought it was going to be a 
picnic. ’ ’ 

Ned secretly complimented himself on his 
strategy. 

“Oh, well, I guess, now I come to think of it, it 


116 


HELEN CAEEY 


was a picnic/’ he admitted. ‘‘Very select, I un- 
derstand; just a few of the boys are going,” he 
added. 

“Yes, so Missy tells me; I think it would be 
nice to ask everybody, but the girls have decided 
they’ll just have it special for the boys who are 
going away, and I don’t know but maybe they’re 
right after all. It’s a nice friendly idea, giving 
them a sort of farewell and it’s real sweet of 
them to think of it.” Miss Tab paused and 
sniffed. 

“I believe that’s my bread burning,” she ex- 
claimed and hurried into the kitchen without real- 
izing for a minute that she had given the whole 
secret away. 

Ned watched her move busily around the 
kitchen. 

“That’s a nice way to treat a fellow,” he 
grumbled to the placid Chink. “Keep him away 
from your picnic just because he isn’t going to be 
a soldier. It’s just like a lot of girls to make a 
fuss about a uniform.” 

He walked disconsolately to the bunk house and 
sat down on the edge of Shoulder’s bunk. 

An empty duffle bag in one corner of the room 
caught his attention, and he gazed at it thought- 
fully for a long time. 


VOLUNTEERS 


117 


In the meanwhile Missy had met Grace and 
Flora at the latter ^s house and they were busy 
discussing the plan. 

‘‘I think it^s great!’’ Flora declared, ‘‘hut ex- 
plain it to me again, I don’t think I quite get it.” 

“Why, it’s perfectly simple and I know it will 
work like a charm,” Missy replied. “We’ll put 
up a sign in the post-office that will read some- 
thing like this : 

“ ‘The Junior Branch of the Red Cross will 
give a send-off to the boys who have joined the 
Army,’ and then the date below.” 

“I think this Saturday would be the best time, 
don’t you?” Grace asked. 

“It would for our boys, I know. Missy, you 
ask Mr. Price what he thinks,” Flora suggested, 
“and then we can decide, but go on about the 
other sign.” 

“Yes, because that’s the one that counts,” 
Grace added. 

“Well, I thought we’d word it something like 
this,” Missy began: 

“ ‘an appeal fob workebs, 

OUR BOYS ARE GOING TO WAR. 

DO YOUR BIT.’ 


and then, under it we’ll put — 


118 


HELEN CAEEY 


< ( ( There is still room for more members in the 
Girls’ League. Apply to — ’ and then our names, 
and of course, we’ll be careful to hang the signs 
near each other.” 

‘‘I wonder if it’ll work!” Grace laughed. 
suppose it will, all the girls will want to go to the 
picnic so they’ll just have to join the League.” 

‘‘You stop by and ask Mr. Judd to print the 
signs for us. Flora; six of each ought to do; we’ll 
put them in the station and the post-office and the 
store and the hotel, and nail them up on a tree at 
the cross-roads.” 

“I’ll tell the boys down our way,” Grace of- 
fered, “and we can tell the rest of the girls at the 
meeting to-morrow. I can’t wait to see what 
happens.” 

“Suppose all the girls join and work until the 
picnic comes off, and then stop!” Flora said as 
her two friends were leaving. 

Grace looked puzzled, but Missy laughed. 

“Don’t worry,” she said with determination; 
“leave that to me.” 

“Where’s Ned!” she asked, two hours later, 
when she reached home a few minutes before 
supper. 

Her father was at his desk, busy over some ac- 


VOLUNTEERS 119 

counts, and the boys were sitting on the front 
steps. 

‘‘He’s gone,” Tom answered her question. 
“Nobody knows where, hut he’s gone.” 

“Nonsense,” Missy replied, “where is he 
really, DadU’ 

Mr. Carey looked up from his work and an- 
swered through the window. 

“He’s just gone to the city. He asked me if 
he could have a couple of days off and I told him 
he could, so he went down on the five-twenty 
train; rode in with Tim. He’ll be back on Satur- 
day. Why, what are you laughing* at?” Mr. 
Carey stopped and looked in surprise at his 
daughter. 

Missy’s amusement was seemingly out of aU 
proportion to the news she had just heard. 


CHAPTER XII 


NED EETUKNS 

M r. price was just leaving his corral 
when he saw Missy riding over the 
plains toward him. 

He waved a welcoming hand and sat down on 
the fence to wait for her. 

It was the day before the picnic, and the past 
week had been a busy one for the girls of Preach- 
er’s Corners. Missy’s scheme to gather workers 
had the desired effect, and the membership of the 
Junior Branch of the Red Cross lengthened each 
day until there were twenty-six members en- 
rolled. 

^'Plans for the picnic progressed. The new 
members took a hearty, though rather self-con- 
scious interest in the preparations, and the do- 
nations of cakes and pies kept the luncheon com- 
mittee, headed by Flora, very busy. 

Missy and Grace had undertaken the manage- 
ment of the games, and it was to consult about 
the prizes that Missy was riding to the Price 
ranch. 


120 



He waved a welcoming hand and sat down on the fence 
to wait for her Fage 121 



NED EETURNS 


123 


‘‘Hello, what’s the matter?” Mr. Price called 
as she swung around the house and stopped 
Gappy just a few feet before him. 

“I’m in a hurry, and I want your advice,” she 
replied breathlessly. “We’ve got ten dollars to 
spend in prizes, and we don’t know what to buy. 
Terrible fuss going on at Flora’s over it. Jessie 
Bangs, she’s that tenderfoot from the Coast,” 
Missy lingered over the adjective, “wants to buy 
a silver loving cup to present to the best rider. 
Now, Mr. Price, you know as well as I do that 
either Tom or Shoulders will win the bronco 
busting contest, and — ^well, can you imagine giving 
Shoulders a little silver loving cup! It’s too per- 
fectly silly,” she said quite seriously. 

Mr. Price threw back his head and laughed. 
The idea was indeed ridiculous. 

“Oh, please be serious,” Missy protested; “it’s 
dreadfully important. ’ ’ 

Mr. Price managed to subdue everything but 
the twinkle in his eyes, as he answered gravely, 

“Well, now. Missy, maybe you’re jumping at 
conclusions; maybe one of my boys will win. 
There’s Pete, for instance. Pete would just 
naturally dote on a little silver loving cup.” 

Missy picked up her reins and pretended to 
start. 


124 


HELEN CAREY 


right, if you can’t be serious about it,’’ 
she said reproachfully. 

Mr. Price was really penitent. ‘‘Come back. 
Missy; I was only teasing and you know it. I’ll 
be good, honest now; let’s hear what it’s all 
about.” 

Missy turned back, dismounted, and climbed up 
on the fence beside him. 

“I want you to decide what to have for prizes,” 
she explained, “then don’t you see I can go back 
and tell them what you’ve said and that will set- 
tle that silly Bangs girl and her loving cups.” 

“Oh, I see,” Mr. Price said slowly. “Well, 
what’s your ideaf” 

“Promise not to laugh if I tell you?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then — it’s tobacco — Shoulders and all the 
boys’d like that best, I’m sure, and if they go 
away to camp maybe they’ll run short.” 

“Now that’s funny. Missy,” Mr. Price ex- 
claimed; “that’s exactly what I was going to sug- 
gest. My boys were all so anxious to chip in 
when you sent that last package off to Henri that 
I know they’d rather work for it as a prize than 
all the loving cups in creation.” 

“Then that’s settled; here’s the money, you 


NED EETURNS 125 

buy two big tins of it, the same kind Tommy got 
for Henri,’’ Missy replied. 

She got down off the fence, caught the grazing 
Gappy, and jumped into the saddle. 

‘^How will the rest of the girls like it?” Mr. 
Price asked. He was looking down at the money 
and trying not to smile. 

‘‘Not much,” Missy admitted as she touched 
her pony with her spur, “but they won’t know 
until this afternoon and then it’ll be too late to do 
anything, see?” 

Mr. Price whistled. “If that isn’t Missy all 
over,” he chuckled. 

He watched until she was out of sight. 

Missy galloped Gappy nearly all the way home. 
There was so much to be done that eating dinner 
seemed a waste of time, but she was hungry. 

“Well, how’s the master of ceremonies?” her 
father asked as she slipped into her place beside 
him at the table. 

“All right. Daddy, but I’ve so many things to 
do.” 

“Better get Tom and Shoulders to help you,” 
Dicky Barrows suggested. “The party’s going 
to be for them, and I should think they’d be glad 
to rustle around for you.” 


126 


HELEN CAREY 


‘‘Dicky’s jealous,” Shoulders laughed. “No- 
body’s asked him to a beautiful picnic. See what 
comes of being a brave soldier.” 

Miss Tab, to whom the boys’ teasing was al- 
ways a source of worry, spoke up, 

“I’ve made an extra pie for you boys for your 
lunch to-morrow,” she said. “It seems a pity 
to think you’ll be left behind.” 

Sandy and Dicky exchanged knowing glances. 

“Oh, don’t you worry about us, Miss Tab,” 
Sandy replied, “we’ve made a few little plans of 
our own. But, of course, the pie’ll be welcome.” 

It was on the tip of Missy ’s tongue to ask what 
the plans were, but the sound of the automobile 
at the door saved her from displaying her cu- 
riosity. 

“Anything left for us?” Tim inquired from 
the door. Ned was with him and they looked hot 
and dusty from their trip. 

“Oh, hello, Ned!” Missy exclaimed. “Come 
and tell us where you’ve been.” 

“Don’t ask embarrassing questions. Missy,” 
Tim said severely. “Ned’s had a disappoint- 
ment and he’s feeling touchy about it.” 

“I’m not either,” Ned returned hotly. “I 
can’t help it, can I?” 

“Of course you can’t, that’s what I’m trying to 


NED EETURNS 127 

explain to Missy,/’ Tim replied soothingly. ‘‘We 
can’t any of ns help our natural defects.” 

“Can’t you leave a fellow alone? I suppose 
you’ll pester me till I tell them everything,’’’ Ned 
continued dejectedly. 

“Now I call that real unkind,” Tim protested. 

“Well, everybody listen — here’s what hap- 
pened — I went down to town and tried to offer 
myself to fight for my country. I was hovering 
under the delusion that Uncle Sam was out look- 
ing for recruits. After I stood in line before the 
recruiting office along with a mob of others for a 
couple of hours, I gave up the idea, but I stuck 
to my place and at last I got in. Well, I gave my 
name and age and occupation and a lot of other 
information, and the officer gave me a card and 
sent me to another address. Well, I got there 
and after another wait I got into a doctor’s office 
and — say, Mr. Carey,” Ned suddenly interrupted 
his story, “is there anything that you can see 
that’s wrong with my constitution?” 

“Why, no, Ned, you look pretty fit to me,” Mr. 
Carey laughed. “What’s happened?” 

“What’s happened?” Ned repeated in an ag- 
grieved voice. “He turned me down, said I was 
unfit for the service because — because, I had flat 
feet.” 


128 


HELEN CAEEY 


A roar of laughter followed the announcement, 
and Ned, after an accusing glance at each of his 
convulsed companions, returned to his dinner in 
injured silence. 

Missy waited until she was alone with him be- 
fore she otfered any consolation. 

‘H’m awfully sorry, Ned, really I am,’’ she 
said. ‘Ht was fine of you to go anyway, and I 
think the doctor was crazy to refuse you just for 
flat feet. But anyway, you’ve done your part 
and it isn’t your fault that you aren’t going with 
the rest. We’ll expect you to go to the picnic to- 
morrow, anyway.” 

Ned brushed the side of his chaps with his hat, 
and looked sheepishly at the floor of the porch. 

‘‘Ah, shucks, I don’t care anything about the 
picnic,” he said gruffly, “but of course, if you 
really want me to. I’ll go.” 


CHAPTER Xni 

THE PICNIC 


T six o’clock on Saturday morning Miss 
Tab rapped gently on Missy’s door. 



‘Ht’s time to get up, dear,” she called. 


Missy struggled hard against the temptation 
not to bury her head deep in under the bed clothes 
for a last forty winks. 

‘‘What kind of a day is it?” she asked sleepily, 
her eyes still tightly shut. 

‘ ‘ Beautiful, dear ; clear, and nice and cool ; come 
hurry and get dressed.” 

Missy sat up in bed and opened her eyes ; a ray 
of sunshine slanted through the windows and 
made a patch of yellow on the bare floor. Out- 
side the birds argued shrilly over some contested 
prize, probably a fat and venturesome worm. 

It was an ideal setting for a picnic, and Missy, 
once she had shaken off her drowsiness, made 
short work of the dressing. 

The telephone rang before she had finished her 
breakfast ; it was Mr. Price. 


129 


130 


HELEN CAREY 


“I got those things we were talking about, 
Missy, he said, ‘^and I’ll take them over with 
us.” 

‘‘Oh, thank you ever so much. Don’t forget 
them, will you?” 

“I should say not. How about the girls; are 
they awfully cross at me?” 

“No, I persuaded them to agree with us and 
they are all delighted. That is, all except Jessie 
Bangs, and she doesn’t really count.” 

Mr. Price chuckled. “I was just a little mite 
worried,” he admitted. “Well, good-by. Missy; 
we’ll ride over about eight o’clock and meet you 
all.” 

“Mind you’re not late; you know we have to 
get things ready for the rest.” 

“Oh, we’ll be there.” 

“Good-by.” 

“Good-by.” 

Missy hurried out to the kitchen where she 
found Aunt Tab secretly admiring her row of 
pies. 

“They’re beauties. Aunt Tab. I hate to think 
of their being eaten. You and Dad will have to 
be awfully careful to carry them out without 
breaking them.” 

“We’re going in the automobile, aren’t we?” 


THE PICNIC 131 

Miss Tab inquired. ‘‘Your father said so at 
breakfast; he can^t leave before noon.^^ 

“Oh, well, that will be time enough; we won^t 
have the games until after lunch. We’re going 
to have the riding contest this morning, and you 
know you hate that. ’ ’ 

“Are you going to ride. Missy?” Miss Tab 
asked nervously. “I do wish you wouldn’t.” 

Missy laughed reassuringly. 

“Why, it wouldn’t be a real picnic unless I 
tried for some sort of a prize. Don’t you worry 
about me. Mr. Price says the bronco isn’t half 
wild anyway.” 

Miss Tab shook her head doubtfully, but before 
she could say anything more Missy was out at 
the corral. 

Sandy Morgan was standing at the door of the 
saddle bam, arrayed in a blue-and-white check 
shirt, and a new yellow neckerchief. He shifted 
self-consciously from one foot to the other when 
he saw Missy, and took otf his hat and made her 
a formal bow. 

“Mercy, Sandy, but you do look magnificent. 
When did you get that new handkerchief?” she 
exclaimed in surprise. 

“I bought it the last time I was in town. Like 
it?” Sandy replied with fine indifference. 


132 


HELEN CAEEY 


course, it’s beautiful, but why are you all 
dressed up to-day?” Missy asked. 

‘‘Oh, I’ve a little engagement, and I thought 
I’d kind of spruce up a bit.” 

“Why, where are you going?” 

“Don’t you tell, Sandy.” Dicky Barrows ap- 
peared from around the corner of the bunk house. 
He was equally resplendent in a red-and-white 
check shirt and a green neckerchief. 

Missy looked from one to the other in ill-con- 
cealed astonishment. 

“Well, I never!” she exclaimed. “Are you 
really going somewhere or are you just teasing 
me?” 

“Oh, we’re going somewhere,” Dicky replied, 
“but where, is our little secret.” 

“You’d better get started. Missy,” Sandy sug- 
gested, “or you’ll be late for the picnic.” 

Missy hesitated, but only for a moment. “I 
guess you’re right, Sandy,” she laughed, getting 
the better of her curiosity and not giving him 
the satisfaction of asking any further questions. 

“I’d ask one of you to get Gappy for me but 
I’d hate to have you muss up your pretty 
clothes.” 

“Oh, I’ll be glad to get him for you,” Dicky 
offered, and started for the pasture. 


THE PICNIC 


133 


Missy called Tom and Shoulders, and Ned rode 
in from the pasture on Jinx, driving Eanger and 
Skittles before him. 

After the horses were saddled the picnic party 
started. Missy could not help looking back 
wonderingly at Dicky and Sandy in their gala 
attire. 

‘‘I wonder what they’re up tof” she said to 
Tom. 

‘^Oh, nothing much; they’re just trying to make 
you curious,” he answered. expect they’ll 
ride in to town and hang around the hotel. ’ ’ 

But Missy’s curiosity was not satisfied by so 
simple an explanation. 

At the cross-roads they found Mr. Price and 
five of his boys waiting for them. They were 
laden down with provisions, and Pete was leading 
a solemn-eyed, piebald pony named Stars. He 
was the cherished property of the Price ranch and 
was renowned throughout the countryside for 
having thrown more men than any other single 
pony. 

The place that had been selected for the picnic 
was a good two hours’ ride from their meeting 
place. It was a clearing high up in the foothills 
— a flat stretch of land shaded by a giant rock, 
with a trout stream near at hand. A little to the 


134 


HELEN CAEEY 


right and down the trail a way there was a 
natural amphitheater that served as a ring for the 
riding contest. 

“I^d ^most forgotten how nice it was,’^ Missy 
exclaimed as she dismounted and prepared to un- 
saddle Gappy. 

‘‘It’s the best spot for a picnic in this part of 
the country,” Mr. Price declared, looking about 
him with appreciation. 

“I’m glad you chose it for our last one,” 
Shoulders said a little sorrowfully. “It’ll be 
nice to remember it when we’re ‘over there.’ ” 

“Shoulders, for pity sake, don’t talk as if this 
were going to be your last picnic on earth,” 
Missy protested, “and don’t sit down on that 
rock, because you’ve got to work. Somebody has 
to build the fire and somebody has to go and catch 
some fish.” 

“I’ll stay here and fix the fire,” Pete offered, 
“if Shoulders will gather the wood.” 

“I’m agreeable, but if I know Missy she’ll 
build the fire and we’ll both get the wood,” Shoul- 
ders replied. 

The rest of the boys, with Tom and Mr. 
Price, went off in the direction of the stieam, 
and Missy rolled up her sleeves with business- 
like care. 


THE PICNIC 135 

‘‘Where’s the wind coming from, PeteT’ she 
asked. 

“West, I guess; feels that way,’^ he replied. 
“Going to build a fire screen?” 

“Think we'd better, don't you? If we don't 
the smoke will blow in everybody's eyes.” 

They set to work busily. The boys brought 
pieces of wood of all sizes and shapes, and Missy, 
with a knack that comes from long experience, 
laid a fire. Pete and Shoulders put up a fire 
screen. 

“Very neat, Missy,” Shoulders congratulated, 
as Missy declared the fire would burn in a bliz- 
zard. “You really ought to have been a man.” 

“Shoulders Fielding, if you say that to me 
again — I'll — ^I'll throw every one of Aunt Tab's 
pies — ” A long-drawn shout interrupted her 
threat, and Grace on a wiry little sorrel pony 
came in sight far down the trail. 

‘ ‘ Here they come ; just look at them ! ' ' Pete ex- 
claimed. 

“I didn't know Slim Chester had enlisted.” 

“Hello, Slim!” Shoulders called. 

Slim was one of the Hollis cowboys, and a gen- 
eral favorite at dances and picnics. 

“Hello, Shoulders! here early, I see. Glad we 
brought the food with us.” 


136 


HELEN CAREY 


‘‘There’s Baxter and Little John. Hello!” 

“Hello, everybody.” 

“We passed Flora and the hampers on the 
way; they’d had a blow-out, but they’ll be along 
in a little while,” Grace explained. 

“When’s your mother coming?” Missy asked. 

“Later on with the rest of the older people. I 
met your father in town and he said he was bring- 
ing Miss Tab later.” 

“That’s a pretty nice fire. Who built it?”’ 
Slim inquired. 

“I did,” Missy replied proudly. “Now, Slim, 
don’t you tell me I ought to have been a boy,” 
she warned. 

“No fear, I like you too well as a girl,” he 
answered gallantly, and Missy looked trium- 
phantly at Shoulders. 

“Ah, Slim always did know how to talk 
pretty,” he said scornfully, and Slim laughed. 

“It’s the only way to get along with the girls. 
Grace taught me; ask her.” 

Grace looked up from the hamper she was un- 
packing. 

“I’ve no time to answer foolish questions,” 
she said, and Shoulders laughed. 

“Doesn’t always work, does it?” 

“Not always, no; but mostly it does,” Slim an- 


THE PICNIC 137 

swered cheerfully. ‘‘Come on down and help 
carry up the hampers.’^ 

More people were arriving, and for a little 
while there was a confusion of greetings and wel- 
coming shouts. 

The girls unpacked the hampers and piled the 
plates on the rock out of harm’s way, and the fish- 
ermen returned with a string of trout, which they 
left in the baskets for the older people to pre- 
pare. 

At eleven o’clock Missy blew a big horn and 
announced that the riding contest would begin. 

Pete roped Stars and brought him to the ring. 

Mr. Price acted as master of ceremonies. 

“Who’s first, the ladies or the men. Missy*?” 
he asked. 

“Oh, the men,” she replied, but several voices 
protested. 

“No, make the girls go first.” 

Pete led the protesting Stars out of the way, 
and Slim and Shoulders saddled a shaggy little 
mustang with fiery eyes and a mean way of throw- 
ing his head. 

“Gentle as a lamb and warranted safe for any 
lady to ride,” Slim announced as the pony 
planted his four little hoofs in the dirt, and re- 
fused to move. 


138 


HELEN CAEEY 


‘‘Who’s first?” 

Mr. Price lined up the girls who had entered for 
the contest and selected Flora by the simple 
method of eni-mene-mini-mo. 

“Oh, land, I always am unlucky,” Flora pro- 
tested, “but I’ll chance it. Hold on, though, ’till 
I get a good seat.” 

She stepped into the ring and scrambled into 
the saddle while Slim and Shoulders held the 
pony. 

“Let her go,” Slim directed. “Hang on, 
Flora.” 

The mustang stood still long enough for Flora 
to think she had gotten a firm seat ; then as if to 
show her the foolishness of such rash confidence 
he dropped his head almost to the ground and 
kicked his hind legs into the air. Flora rolled 
right over and turned a somersault on the soft 
ground. 

Her audience waited long enough to see that 
she was not hurt and then broke into peals of 
laughter. 

Flora picked herself up and joined in the merri- 
ment. 

“Who’s next?” Mr. Price asked when the 
laughter had died down. 

Several girls followed, but their attempts were 


THE PICNIC 139 

as unsuccessful as Flora’s, and few of them were 
of any longer duration. 

“Come on, Grace; you’re next,” Mr. Price 
called, as the fifth girl picked herself up and 
limped out of the ring. 

“Let’s see what you can do.” 

“Kememher the honor of the Hollis ranch,” 
Slim whispered, as Grace jumped into the saddle, 
“and hang on.” 

The pony had worked himself into a towering 
rage by now and it was evident by the quick lunge 
that he made as soon as Shoulders let go of his 
bridle that he intended to make short work of 
his new rider, but Grace refused to be thrown. 
She sat firm in the saddle and let him buck and 
rear. 

The boys cheered lustily, and Mr. Price got 
out his stop-watch. Five minutes was the per- 
mitted time that the rider must stay in the saddle, 
and Grace stayed. 

“Three cheers!” Slim shouted joyfully, as he 
helped her off. “I knew you’d do it; I guess the 
prize is yours.” 

“Hold on, Missy’s next,” Mr. Price said; “so 
don’t be too sure.” 

“Come on, Missy, he’s ready for you,” he 
called. • 


140 


HELEN CAREY 


Missy smiled at Grace as she passed. ‘‘Think 
I can do itT^ she whispered. 

Grace nodded. “Easy/’ she replied. 

Missy jumped into the saddle with her usual 
agility, and Shoulders eyed her seriously. 

“You’ve just naturally got to stick to this 
horse, Missy Carey,” he said firmly. “There — 
let her go.” 

Once more the mustang tried to throw off his 
new rider, and once again she refused to he 
thrown. He kicked and ran, only to stop sud- 
denly with lowered head. Missy was ready for 
him and stayed in the saddle. 

The crowd cheered, and Shoulders thumped 
Slim on the back in the extremity of his delight. 

At last the five minutes were up. It looked 
like a tie. Only Mr. Price and a few of the boys 
knew that Missy had kept her seat with more 
ease than Grace. 

“What will we do about the prize?” Mr. Price 
inquired. 

“But there isn’t one, is there?” Grace and 
Missy asked together. 

“Of course there is; the boys are putting it 
up, and it’s a beauty,” Mr. Price replied. 

“I tell you, let’s wait until the boys have ridden 
Stars,” Grace suggested, “and then Missy and I 


THE PICNIC 


141 


can see which one can stick on him longest/’ 

“Great!” Missy agreed. “I’ve always been 
crazy to ride that horse, and that will be perfectly 
fair.” 

Mr. Price considered for a little while, but his 
pride in Missy finally made him consent. 

Pete brought back Stars, and the men’s con- 
test began. 

Missy saw the mustang throw Ned first and 
then Baxter. 

“It looks as if we’re in for it, doesn’t it?” she 
said to Grace. Grace pretended to shake with 
fear. 

“I hope they tire him out a little,” she whis- 
pered. 

Stars did not strike the casual onlookers as a 
very suitable name for the piebald mustang that 
was hurtling around the ring and succeeding in 
unseating some of the best riders of the day. 
But the nickname derived its origin from the year 
before, when a man from the East who prided 
himself on his riding had attempted to ride this 
special pony. He had been pitched ruthlessly to 
the ground after a few strenuous seconds, and the 
first word he had uttered when he partly regained 
consciousnes was “Stars — Stars,” and the little 
bronco had been Stars ever since. 


142 


HELEN CAEEY 


He was proving his right to the name now, and 
Missy was growing impatient. 

“Why don’t they let one of the boys who really 
can ride have a chancel” she said crossly. “I’m 
snre Tommy conld stay on.” 

“Are you determined to keep all the glory of 
to-day for the Carey ranch I” Grace laughed. 
“How about Slim or Little John, or even Pete I 
they haven’t had a try yet.” 

“Oh, well, I meant them when I spoke. I just 
said Tommy because he ’s my brother, I suppose. ’ ’ 
“Well, there’s his chance. Look!” 

Tom was walking over to the pony with long, 
confident strides. He jumped into the saddle, 
and at first it did look as though he were going 
to stick on, but Stars, in a very frenzy of rage, 
jumped sideways like a frightened rabbit, and 
then reared and fell. Tom managed to get his foot 
out of the stirrup in time to save its being 
crushed, and so escaped serious injury. 

Stars was up in a minute and his fall seemed to 
have added to his obstreperousness. 

“Too bad, Tom,” Mr. Price said feelingly; 
“that was a good start, but — ” 

“Oh, I know,” Tom laughed, “some day I’ll 
work that pony over until he’s a house pet, you 
see if I don’t.” 


THE PICNIC 


143 


Slim was the next in line and he stayed on for 
nine minutes out of the ten. 

‘‘I knew he would,” Grace cried excitedly; ^^if 
you hadn’t, Slim, I’d never have forgiven 
you.” 

^‘Well, don’t forget that extra minute,” Slim 
reminded her. ‘‘I haven’t won yet.” 

‘‘Oh, nobody will stay any longer than that,” 
Grace replied confidently. 

Pete winked at Missy. 

“Watch me,” he said grandly. He ran over 
to the bronco, put both hands on the saddle, and 
vaulted. It was a clever piece of acting and the 
crowd cheered. The minutes wore on and he kept 
his seat in spite of Stars ’ bucking, but the tempta- 
tion to show off was too strong. He raised his 
hat and was going to wave it when Stars bucked, 
jumped into the air and landed with his head 
down and his four feet together. 

Pete, taken more or less off his guard, grabbed 
for the pommel of the saddle and was disqualified 
for “pulling leather.” 

“Come on. Shoulders; you’re the last one,” 
Mr. Price called. “So far. Slim’s got a big start 
on all of you.” 

Shoulders threw away the cigarette he was 
smoking and ambled out toward the pony. Missy 


144 


HELEN CAEEY 


watched him excitedly. As he passed her she 
called out, ‘‘Good luck.’^ 

The onlookers roused themselves in eager 
anticipation. Shoulders would not give up with- 
out a fight. 

He mounted quickly but very easily, so that 
Stars was surprised to find there was any one in 
the saddle. He threw his head back and started 
to run. Shoulders reined him in and made him 
go round in circles. 

It was a spectacular fight between man and 
beast, and the boys showed their appreciation by 
long-drawm shouts that did much to egg on the 
already frantic Stars. 

There was only one minute when it looked as if 
the pony would win. He bucked so hard and 
so fast that it seemed almost impossible that any 
man could keep his seat. 

Missy was so excited that she called out as they 
passed: 

“Shoulders, if you dare to let that pony throw 
you 111 never, never — save your life again. 

The threat had the desired etfect. Shoulders 
stiffened in the saddle and grinned, and at the 
end of ten minutes he made the now subdued 
Stars walk the length of the ring, while the boys 
cheered lustily. 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE SURPRISE PARTY 

S houlders dismounted and the boys sur- 
rounded him. Mr. Price sent Pete for one 
of the tins of tobacco, and Shoulders proved 
that Missy was correct in her choice of a prize 
by his genuine enthusiasm over it. 

‘^What happens nextU^ Little John inquired 
as he helped himself to some of the prize. 

Mr. Price looked at Missy and Missy looked at 
Grace. 

^‘We^re ready,’’ they replied. 

^ ^You’re never going to let those two girls ride 
Stars,” Pete protested; ‘‘he’ll kill ’em both.” 
Tom looked a little worried too. 

“I don’t honestly think — ” he began, but 
Missy interrupted him. 

“Never mind what you think. Tommy. Grace 
and I have to settle this somehow.” 

“Oh, you needn’t worry,” Shoulders said to 
Tom, “Stars is pretty tired and we can be right 
there.” 

“Who’s first?” Grace asked. 


145 


146 


HELEN CAREY 


ought to be/' Missy replied, because you 
were last time, and that's only fair." 

‘‘All right, Missy; you go ahead," Mr. Price 
called; “just stick on for as long as you can." 

“Give him his head and act sort of easy," 
Shoulders advised her as she mounted, “and let 
him have his own way." 

Missy did her best, but Stars resented the flap 
of her riding skirt and acted badly. She clung 
on in spite of him, however, until Tom and 
Shoulders made her get off. 

Grace did not fare so well. She was just the 
least bit nervous, and though she made a brave 
attempt Stars felt the uncertainty of her hand on 
the reins. His temper was sorely tried too by 
the second riding skirt. He plunged and reared 
so furiously that Grace lost one of her stirrups, 
and had it not been for Slim's and Tom's quick 
action in catching the pony she might have had 
an ugly fall. 

The prize beyond a doubt fell to Missy, and Mr. 
Price gave it to her with all the grace of a lord 
mayor offering the keys of the city to a visiting 
queen. 

She accepted it with equal gravity. It was a 
small box and she opened it eagerly, to find a little 
gold horse mounted on a stick pin. 


THE SURPEISE PAETY 


147 


‘‘Why, how perfectly lovely!’’ she exclaimed. 
“I never suspected anything like this; isn’t it a 
beauty?” 

“You deserve it, Missy,” Mr. Price declared 
proudly. The pin was his own contribution, 
although he pretended that the hoys had a share 
in the buying of it. 

Every one crowded around to examine and en- 
thuse over it, and even Jessie Bangs had to ad- 
mit that Missy had earned it fairly. 

It was Shoulders who finally suggested return- 
ing to camp for dinner, and the rest heartily 
agreed to the proposal. 

They found everything in readiness for them. 
The older people had arrived and had laid out 
the table cloths on the ground, and unpacked the 
food while they were away. It made an exceed- 
ingly tempting display. 

Miss Tab was just putting a sandwich on a 
plate when she saw Missy escorted by the proud 
Tom and Shoulders. 

She forgot about the sandwich as she turned 
to greet them. 

“Well, well, dearie, I am glad to see you alive. 
Every time I heard the boys yell I was sure some 
one of you was hurt.” 

“No, indeed. Auntie, we had a fine time and I 


148 


HELEN CAREY 


won the prize, — Missy displayed her pin. 
^ ‘Isn’t it a beauty?” 

“Very pretty, my dear, very pretty,” Aunt 
Tab admitted, “but don’t tell me anything about 
the riding; I really don’t want to hear; it upsets 
me completely.” She turned to her plate, but 
the sandwich had disappeared. A little way off a 
“camp robber” was struggling with it. He was 
a big bird about the size of a robin, and with no 
manners at all. 

“Land’s sake!” Miss Tab exclaimed as she 
saw him. “I never will get used to those saucy 
birds; they’re as bold as they can be; a body 
can’t put a thing down for a second without their 
running off with it.” 

“Never mind,” Shoulders comforted; “he 
didn’t get the pies anyway, so it doesn’t matter 
much. ’ ’ 

“Sit down, everybody,” Mrs. Dodd called. 
“The fish will be finished in no time, and they 
mustn’t be allowed to get cold.” 

There was a general scramble for places. Slim 
chose Grace for his companion, and they joined 
Missy and Shoulders, who were already sitting 
with their backs up against the rock, with Tom 
and Flora. 

“Oh, Jimminy, smell those fish!” Slim said. 


THE SURPRISE PARTY 149 

sniffing the air rapturously. ready for 

them too.’’ 

‘^So am I,” Shoulders exclaimed; ‘‘working 
Stars over isn’t the gentlest job I ever tackled.” 

“Flora,” Tom said softly, “did you make the 
ginger bread over in that basket?” 

“Yes, and the biscuits too,” Flora replied. 
“Why?” 

“Well — say, Flora, you like me pretty much, 
don’t you?” Tom asked, irrespective of the 
ginger bread. 

“Why, yes. Tommy; lots.” 

“Well, then you’ll miss me when I’m away at 
camp, won’t you?” 

“Of course, I will.” 

“And you’ll be kind of sorry to think of me 
being hungry, and maybe you’ll — ” 

“Oh, I see,” Flora laughed; “all this means 
you want me to promise to send you ginger cake. ’ ’ 

“Will you?” 

“Yes, indeed. I’ll send a box to you-all every 
week. ’ ’ 

“ ‘You-all,’ did you hear. Tommy?” Shoul- 
ders asked. “All includes me, and I love ginger 
bread.” 

“Look!” Missy exclaimed suddenly, jumping 
up. “I saw a face behind that bush.” 


150 


HELEN CAEEY 


‘ ‘ Where r’ the rest demanded, but Missy could 
not point out the exact spot. They laughed at 
her fears, but she still insisted she had seen some 
one. 

‘^Missy’s so excited over that prize she just 
won, she’s seeing things,” Slim laughed. 

‘‘Face in the bushes, ho! ho!” 

“What’s the matter T’ Ned inquired, coming 
up and making a place for himself beside Missy, 
much to the disgust of Shoulders. 

“I thought those fish were most done,” he 
grumbled; “seems to me everybody at the other 
end’s getting served first. Most likely there 
won’t be enough to go ’round.” 

“Then you can go and catch some more,” 
Flora suggested sweetly. “There’s plenty left 
in the stream.” 

“Ned can’t walk that far,” Shoulders said 
gravely; “haven’t you heard?” 

“Why, no, what’s the matter with him?” 
Flora and Grace asked quite naturally. 

“Why, he’s suffering from flat feet,” Shoul- 
ders explained; “a very serious thing it is too. 
The doctors won’t let him in the army on account 
of it.” 

“Ah, shucks. Shoulders, you always tell every- 
thing you know,” Ned growled. “I’ll get in the 


THE SURPEISE PARTY 


151 


army yet, see if I don’t. You don’t need feet to 
fight with.” 

“Oh, yes, you do,” Slim protested; “how are 
you going to run away from the Germans if your 
feet aren’t just right?” 

“Who said anything about running away?” 
Ned demanded. “I bet I could kill a dozen Ger- 
mans and never — ” but the boast froze on his 
lips. 

A blood curdling whoop rent the air, followed 
by a dozen shots, and before any of the astonished 
people around the table could collect their 
thoughts twenty yelling cowboys appeared from 
nowhere and looted every bit of food in sight. 

The rest rallied under the leadership of Tom 
and organized a hasty defense around the un- 
opened hampers. 

Then for a while the fun was fast and furious. 

Missy saw Shoulders and Dicky wrestling over 
a piece of pie, and while they were contesting a 
“camp robber” ran off with it. 

Pete discovered Sandy just in time as he was 
disappearing behind a rock with a chocolate cake, 
and dragged him back. 

Flora’s ginger bread was in danger of utter 
destruction, but Tom made a valiant stand, and 
with Slim’s aid rescued it. After a while they 


152 


HELEN CAEEY 


quieted down a little and Sandy Morgan came 
over to Missy, a piece of pie in one hand, and a 
ham sandwich in the other, and explained, 

‘^You see, we just naturally couldn’t let you 
get ahead of us ; if we ’d let this party go on with- 
out us it would have been a precedent, and that 
never would do, see?” 

^‘Besides,” Dicky added, ‘‘we knew you really 
wanted us.” 

“And we knew we wanted the pie,” one of the 
Price boys said. 

“Well, I’m real glad you came, boys,” Miss 
Tab replied; “there’s more than enough to go 
around and I always felt it was mean to leave 
you out.” 

“I believe Miss Tab knew what was going to 
happen,” Mrs. Dodd laughed; “she wasn’t a bit 
scared, and I nearly died of fright. Sit down, 
boys, and we’ll see what’s left,” she directed. 

That picnic was a never-to-be-forgotten meal, 
and though the number of the diners had been 
doubled there was plenty to go around. 

“I am glad you came, Sandy,” Missy laughed; 
“it was sort of queer without you-all, and now I 
know the reason for all the new clothes.” 

“You were some curious, weren’t you?” Sandy 
inquired. “Dicky and I knew you were just 


THE SUEPEISE PAETY 153 

aching to ask some more questions before you 
left.’’ 

was,” Missy admitted, ^‘but I tried not to 
show it.” 

‘‘Somebody pass me Flora’s ginger bread,” 
Tom called; “she made it for me, didn’t you. 
Flora?” 

Flora, who was very partial to Missy’s hand- 
some brother, smiled self-consciously and blushed 
a little. 

“Eeckon I did. Tommy,” she replied. 

“Has everybody had enough to eat?” Mr. 
Carey inquired. “It’s time we were starting the 
games.” 

The rest of the afternoon was taken up by rop- 
ing contests and obstacle races. 

The honors were about equally divided. 

Slim Chester won the prize for his clever 
handling of the lasso, and, as Grace said, “saved 
the honor of the Hollis ranch.” 

They stayed for supper and did not start for 
home until after seven. It was dark and the 
stars were out before the various parties sep- 
arated. 

“It’s been a great old party,” Pete said 
sincerely. “I tell you what. Missy, you’re a 
wonder. ’ ’ 


154 


HELEN CAREY 


“Three cheers for Missy Carey/’ Little John 
shouted, and the hoys gave them, rousing cheers 
that were accompanied by shots. 

Missy stood up in her stirrups and bowed. 

“Thank you, boys, only it really wasn’t my 
picnic. ’ ’ 

“Oh, yes, it was,” Grace reminded her. “You 
thought of the idea.” 

“Well, it’s been a great success,” Slim de- 
clared, “and you can bet we’ll never forget it.” 

“Remember your promise about the ginger 
bread. Flora,” Tom called as the Carey party 
turned up their road. 

“Oh, I will, sure. Good-night,” Flora called 
back. 

“Good night, Mr. Price.” 

“Good night. Missy, I’m proud of you.” 

“Well, it has been a nice day, hasn’t it?” Missy 
said as the sound of the other horses’ hoofs grew 
faint in the distance, and she was alone on the 
home trail with her own boys, “but it’s dreadful 
the way you tease Flora, Tommy; you ought 
to be ashamed.” 

“Oh, she likes it, doesn’t she Shoulders?” Tom 
asked, laughing. 

“Sure she does.” 

“I didn’t get any of Miss Tab’s pound cake,” 


THE SURPRISE PARTY 155 

Ned grumbled, but no one paid any attention to 
him. 

They were all quiet under the spell of the stars. 
At last Shoulders pulled Ranger a little closer. 

^‘Say,’^ he said softly, wouldn’t belong to 
any other outfit around here for anything.” 
‘‘Why not?” Tom asked. 

Sfioulders hesitated. 

“Aw, shucks, wait till Missy isn’t listening,” 
he replied, “and I’ll tell you.” 

Tom laughed. 

“She is a pretty good kid, isn’t she?” he asked 
affectionately. 

Shoulders urged Ranger into a gallop. 

“She sure is ; too bad she isn’t a boy,” he called 
back as he dashed into the darkness ahead. 

Missy touched Gappy with her spurs and raced 
after him all the way to the ranch house. 


CHAPTEE XV 


TWO LETTERS 


HE Main Street of Preacher’s Corners 



was festooned with flags and yards of 


JL of bunting. Every store was decorated 
to outshine its neighbor, and a general holiday 
air prevaded the little town. 

Missy and Grace stood on the steps of the gen- 
eral store, and looked expectantly up the street. 

“It’s really time they were getting started, 
isn’t it?” Grace inquired. 

“Well, it is, if they expect to have any time 
at the station,” Missy replied, “but I suppose 
dinner is taking longer than they expected.” 

“I hope the band is on time; it will be awful 
if they’re late.” 

“Oh, they will be. Mr. Bronson gave them all 
kinds of directions, and he was so serious that I 
think they’ll be afraid not to come.” 

“Have you decorated your car? I’ve put so 
many flags on ours that Tim says he can’t run 


156 


TWO LETTERS 


157 


‘^Oh, yes, you’d never know it.” 

‘‘Let’s sit down,” Missy suggested; “it’s 
awfully hot.” 

They sat down on the step of the store porch 
and watched the doors of the hotel in silence. 

Presently Grace said softly, 

“It’s going to be sort of queer without the hoys, 
isn’t it?” 

“I should say so,” Missy replied feelingly, 
“and isn’t it always the way? It’s our very 
nicest ones that are going; take Slim, for in- 
stance, how are you ever going to get along with- 
out him at the ranch?” 

Grace gave a queer little laugh. 

“Oh, the ranch can get along all right, but I’m 
not so sure that I can,” she said. 

“So that’s it, is it?” Missy exclaimed, sur- 
prised, but Grace refused to say any more. 

“You’ll miss Tommy and Shoulders dread- 
fully, won’t you?” she asked. 

“Indeed, I will; why, when I think of going on 
day after day without them I just can’t bear 
it,” Missy replied. “Of course I’m fond of the 
rest too, but they’re not like Tommy and 
Shoulders.” 

“Here comes Flora; what do you suppose she 
is carrying?” Grace said. 


158 


HELEN CAEEY 


‘‘Hello, Flora; come on over here with ns,’^ she 
called; “they haven’t finished dinner yet.” 

She pointed to the hotel. The citizens of 
Preacher’s Corners were giving a farewell dinner 
to the men who had enlisted. They were going 
away that afternoon. The town band would 
escort them to the station, the decorations were in 
honor of the day. 

“What have you got in that box you are carry- 
ing so carefully?” Missy asked as Flora sat down 
on the steps beside them. 

‘ ‘ Oh, nothing very much, ’ ’ she evaded, and then 
tried so hard to change the subject that Grace and 
Missy knew she was trying to hide something. 

“Out with it. Flora — ^what is it?” Grace de- 
manded. “You’re entirely too mysterious.” 

“Oh, just a cake; why on earth are you so 
curious?” Flora replied. 

“Is it a ginger bread, by any chance?” Grace 
insisted. 

“Yes, it is, as it happens, though what differ- 
ence that can make — ” Flora began, but Missy’s 
laughter made her stop. 

“I made it for Tommy, so there,” she admitted. 
“He’s crazy about ginger bread, and I promised 
him one.” 

A sudden beating of a drum, and a general stir 


TWO LETTERS 


159 


at the end of the street saved her from further 
explanation. 

Dinner was over and the men were preparing 
to get into their waiting automobiles to ride to 
the station. 

A big truck, donated by the Farm Implements 
Company, was fitted up with camp chairs for the 
band. They took their places and started play- 
ing, ‘‘My Country, ’Tis of Thee.’’ 

The boys who were leaving got in the first 
cars and the rest followed. 

The procession started slowly down the hill. 
The station was three miles from the town, and 
marching was therefore out of the question. 

Flora, Grace and Missy jumped on their ponies 
and fell in, in back of the cars. 

The truck set a snail’s pace, and the musicians, 
whether from the effect of their cramped posi- 
tion, or the solemnity of the occasion, droned out 
the strains of the National Hymn. 

“This is a perfect fright,” Missy declared im- 
patiently; “why don’t they play something 
lively; you’d think it was a funeral.” 

“It makes me want to cry,” Grace said; “it’s 
dreadful.” 

The band stopped playing but began again al- 
most at once. 


160 


HELEN CAEEY 


^‘Oh, something's got to be done/’ Missy ex- 
claimed desperately as some long-drawn-out 
notes that tuned into ‘‘My Bonnie lies over the 
ocean,” wafted back to them. 

She spurred Gappy and galloped past the long 
line of cars and reined in alongside of the 
truck. 

“Stop!” she commanded so abruptly that the 
leader of the band very nearly tumbled into the 
bass drum in his surprise. 

“What’s wrong?” he inquired. 

“That piece you’re playing,” Missy told him, 
— “it’s too sad; play something lively, like ‘Tip- 
perary.’ ” 

The leader consulted the musicians. 

“We don’t know it. Miss Carey,” he said 
apologetically. “Would ‘John Brown’s Body’ 
do?” 

“Goodness, no,” Missy protested hurriedly. 
“Can you play ‘Yankee Doodle’?” 

“Yes, of course we can.” The leader looked 
hurt. 

“And Dixie?” 

“Yes, certainly.” 

“Well, then, play first one and then the other, 
and play them fast,” Missy directed and wheeled 
Cappy around. 


TWO LETTEKS 


161 


Smiles appeared on the faces of the men, in 
place of the solemn frowns, as the jolly tune 
began, and they cheered Missy heartily as she 
galloped back to her place. 

They reached the station just a few minutes 
before the train was due so that the farewells 
were hurried. 

Flora gave her cake to Tom, and he thanked 
her with a warmth out of all proportion to the 
gift. 

Slim stood beside Grace, the very picture of 
woe. Shoulders, who was in the best of spirits, 
drew attention to their eloquent silence. 

Cheer up, Grace,’’ he teased. ^‘I’ll take care 
of your Slim for you and see that he wears his 
rubbers when it rains. Think how proud you’ll 
be when he’s a brave officer.” 

Grace looked at Slim; there was a suspicion of 
tears in her eyes, but she smiled. 

‘‘I don’t have to wait until then to be proud of 
him,” she said gayly. 

There, Shoulders, now will you be good?” 
Slim tried to look proud and becomingly humble 
at the same time, and succeeded in making every 
one laugh. 

The train pulled in and the noise and confu- 
sion increased. 


162 


HELEN CAREY 


Missy kissed Tom good-by, and tried hard to 
swallow the lump in her throat. 

Then Shoulders claimed her attention. 

‘^So long, Missy, he said. ‘‘Ill write, and 
donl forget to send on Henri’s letters; I’ll take 
good care of them.” 

“I’ll remember. Shoulders. Hurry up and be 
an officer,” Missy answered. “Don’t forget to 
miss me.” 

“No fear,” Shoulders laughed; “I can promise 
you that. It’s been a great old day,” he said as 
he swung on the step of the last car, “and the 
picnic was a winner.” 

“It won’t be anything to the one we’ll give you 
when you come back,” Missy promised as the 
train pulled slowly away. 

They watched it and waved until it rolled 
out of sight in a cloud of sunlit dust. 

“Well, they’re gone,” Grace said hopelessly. 

“Oh, Missy, suppose they never come back?” 
Flora added dolefully. 

“Suppose nothing of the kind, silly,” Missy 
replied sharply. “They will come back, every 
one of them, and — Oh, goodness, I’m going 
home,” she declared almost angrily and left them 
abruptly. 

“I’ll stop by for the mail. Dad,” she said as 


TWO LETTERS 163 

slie passed her father at the other end of the 
platform. ‘‘I feel like taking a ride.’’ 

Mr. Carey nodded and she mounted Gappy and 
rode away at a gallop. 

The long hard ride to the mail box helped to 
dispel some of the troublesome thoughts that had 
tilled her mind, and the discovery of two letters 
addressed to her in a strange handwriting sent 
the rest flying. 

One was written on blue note paper, and she 
opened that first. 

*^Dear Helen, ( — it read — ) 

‘‘Last winter when I used to see you otf and 
on, and nod to you in an off-hand way if we met 
on the stairs or in the classrooms, I didn’t know 
that I was in the presence of a future heroine.” 

Missy’s brow puckered in a puzzled frown, and 
she turned to the signature on the last page. 

“Why, it’s Violet Mayfield!” she exclaimed, 
and read on hurriedly. 

“Allan (he told you he was my cousin, didn’t 
he?) told us all about the simply stunning way 
you held up those awful men and saved Shoul- 
ders’ — that’s such a lovely nickname — ^life, and we 
are simply crazy about it and you. 

“Now here’s the important part of my letter. 


164 


HELEN CAREY 


Yon know I belong to a club here, and since the 
war began weVe been simply working ourselves 
to death to raise money for all sorts of charities. 
Now, of course, we are donating all our time to 
our own boys, and we are getting up a fair to 
raise money for comfort kits, and you’ve simply 
got to come and help. Don’t you dare say no, 
for we are counting on you. 

‘‘Mother has written your father — ” 

Missy looked hastily through the rest of the 
mail and discovered another blue envelope. 

“ — ^And we are planning an extra booth just 
for you. Please, please come and be our guest 
of honor, Helen. We will be so proud if you only 
will, and I’ll be simply overjoyed to have you at 
our house. We’ll look for you the beginning of 
next week, so don’t dare to disappoint us! 

“Affectionately 

“Violet Mayfield.” 

Missy stared at the letter in utter bewilder- 
ment. She remembered that Violet always used 
the most exaggerated language, but even omitting 
all the “very’s” and the “most’s” the fact that 
she was invited to Fairview, Indiana, to be a 
guest of honor at a fair still remained, and the 
thought sent a warm tingle of pride through her. 
She opened the other letter; it was short but it 


TWO LETTERS 165 

caused her even greater surprise. It was dated 
from one of the Southern Camps. 

Dear Missy ( — it ran — ) : 

^ Wi. is writing you, so she tells me, asking you 
to visit her for the Fair, and I can’t resist the 
temptation of adding my ‘please’ to hers. You 
see I expect a few days’ leave about that time 
and it may he the last chance I have of seeing 
you before I go to Prance. Our regiment is one 
of the lucky ones that will probably leave among 
the first. 

“I only tell you this because I want you to feel 
mean and unpatriotic if you refuse my last wish. 

“You will come, won’t you? 

“Allan.” 

Missy imagined she could almost hear the in- 
flection of his voice in that last sentence, and 
something queer seemed to tighten around her 
heart as she spurred Gappy into a gallop. 


CHAPTER XVI 


ON THE TRAIN 

M r. CAREY looked up from the sheet of 
blue writing paper and nodded his head 
approvingly. 

Mrs. Mayfield’s invitation was so worded that 
he felt confident she was a woman who could be 
trusted with his daughter. * 

Missy was watching him expectantly. 

“May I go, Dad?” she inquired eagerly. 
“Why, I don’t know but what it would be a good 
thing for you. Missy,” Mr. Carey replied slowly. 
“You won’t stay there more than a week or so, 
and I guess your Aunt Tab and I can worry along 
without you for that long.” 

“Oh, Daddy, I’m so glad. I’m just cra2y’ to 
go. Violet is awfully nice and I know I’ll have 
a wonderful time,” and Missy danced out of the 
room to tell Aunt Tab. 

For the rest of the week clothes were the all- 
absorbing topic at the ranch. 

Ned complained that he couldn’t put his hat 
down anywhere without finding a full dozen pins 
166 


ON THE TRAIN 


167 


sticking to it when he picked it up, and even Mr. 
Carey objected that the sitting-room was too 
full of fluffy materials and trimmings for his 
comfort. 

The dressmaker from Preacher’s Corners was 
called upon, and the* buzz of the sewing machine, 
and the snip, snip of Aunt Tab’s scissors could be 
heard at any hour of the day. 

Flora and Grace took more interest in the pro- 
ceedings than Missy herself. 

can’t help it,” she said one day when 
Miss Small, the seamstress, was taking her to 
task for her impatience over a fitting. ‘‘I like 
to look nice but I hate the bother of clothes. I’m 
much happier in a riding skirt and a comfortable 
shirt waist than I am in all these tucked and 
ruffled fussy things.” 

‘‘But, Missy, you can’t wear a riding skirt at 
Fairview,” Flora objected. She had ridden over 
with a pattern that morning and was spending 
the day. “You’ll go to lots of parties and all 
the girls you meet will have beautiful things, 
most likely. Don’t you honestly like new 
clothes?” 

“Not much,” Missy admitted. “I think I look 
awfully silly in most of these things, don’t you?” 

“No, I don’t. I’m simply crazy over that rose- 


168 


HELEN CAEEY 


bud dimity, and if you don’t have it made up with 
lace I’ll never forgive you,” Flora replied 
stoutly. 

“When I was a young girl,” Miss Tab said 
mildly, “I never had more than two or three new 
dresses a year, and to decide about how they were 
to be made up was a very important matter. I 
remember one blue dress — it was very like that 
one of yours. Missy,” — she pointed to a piece 
of blue organdie that was lying on the table — 
“that I had when I was just about eighteen, I 
think. It was my very best, and, dear me, what 
a time I had getting it made just to suit me.” 

“Tell me about it. Aunt Tab. Do you re- 
member what it was like?” Missy asked. 

“Indeed I do,” Aunt Tab’s eyes sparkled with 
fun. “I received my first offer of marriage in 
it,” she said, laughing gently. “The skirt was 
made entirely of little ruffles and the waist was 
a pointed bodice ; there were little black bows here 
and there, one at my waist on one side, and an- 
other half-way down the skirt at the head of one 
of the ruffles on the other. Now let me think 
how the sleeves were. Oh, yes, I know, they were 
very short and puffy, and they were tied with 
black ribbons. I remember the ends were quite 
long and used to hang down.” 


ON THE TRAIN 


169 


‘‘Must have been real sweet,’’ Miss Small said. 
She had stopped the machine to listen to the de- 
scription. “And with your blue eyes I don’t 
wonder you got a proposal.” 

“Neither do I, Aunt Tab,” Missy exclaimed 
impulsively. “Why couldn’t I have my blue 
made just like it? It’s stylish, isn’t it. Flora?” 

“Of course it is, and I know it would be per- 
fectly darling,” Flora enthused. “I can just see 
the dear little black hows. Maybe you’ll get a 
proposal in it. Missy; wouldn’t that be thrilling?” 

“No, thanks,” Missy declared. “If I thought 
I would I’d never wear it.” 

“Why, don’t you want to he proposed to?” 
Flora asked incredulously. 

“I certainly do not.” 

“But you’ll have to have one some day, you 
know,” she insisted. 

“Why, I’d like to know?” Missy was scorn- 
ful of the very idea. 

“Oh, because every girl has one sometime or 
other. ’ ’ 

“Well, I won’t.” 

“You can’t help yourself.” 

“Oh, yes I can.” 

“How?” 

“I’ll run away,” Missy said emphatically, “the 


f 

170 HELEN CAEEY 

very minute he starts in, and V\\ run so fast hedl 
never catch up with me.’’ She looked to Flora 
for appreciation of her plan, but Flora’s thoughts 
were miles away, and she was wondering if she 
hadn’t baked that ginger bread just a little bit 
too long. 

By the first of the next week all the new dresses 
were finished, and Missy was ready for her trip. 
Miss Tab had made the blue one all by hand, and 
it was a marvel of dainty loveliness. 

“Be sure and shake it out the minute you get 
there, won’t you, my dear?” she asked as she and 
Mr. Carey stood with Missy on the station plat- 
form. 

“Yes, indeed, I will, and I’ll write all about the 
kind of a time I have the first time I wear it,” 
Missy promised. “Do you remember whether 
or not I packed my tooth brush?” 

“I’m sure you did, I saw you myself. Don’t 
forget to telegraph your father when you get 
there, will you, dear? I’ll be real worried till I 
know you ’re all right. When I was a girl we didn’t 
travel alone as you do nowadays, and I can’t get 
used to it.” 

“Don’t you worry about me,” Missy laughed. 
“I’ll be safe enough. I’m used to it going back 
and forth to school.” 


ON THE TRAIN 171 

‘‘Well, I^m sure I’ll never be,” Aunt Tab 
sighed nervously. 

“Isn’t that Mr. Price riding over the hill. 
Missy?” Mr. Carey called from the end of the 
platform. “Looks like him to me.” 

“Yes, it is,” Missy replied eagerly. “I wonder 
what he’s doing down here. Look, he’s waving 
something at me.” 

“Looks like a letter,” her father said. 

“Hello, folks; I thought maybe I could get 
you,” Mr. Price announced as he stopped his 
horse and jumped to the ground. “I met Ned 
riding back with your mail a little while ago and 
he told me there was a letter for Missy from 
Henri, so as I was coming this way I thought I’d 
bring it along. I wanted to say good-by any- 
how. ’ ’ 

“Oh, thanks ever so much. I’ll have it to read 
on the train,” Missy exclaimed. “It was awfully 
nice of you to take all that extra trouble. Will 
I have time to open it now?” 

“No, there’s your train whistling for the cross- 
ing,” Mr. Carey said. “It’ll be here in a 
second. ’ ’ 

“Never mind^ you’ll be back soon, or I hope 
you will,” Mr. Price chuckled, “but you never 
know what may happen, especially with all those 


172 HELEN CAEEY 

new clothes you have been telling us all 
about. ’ ^ 

‘‘Oh, 1^11 be back, never fear,” Missy promised, 
“and 1^11 have such a lot to tell you.” 

The train, a fast express from the West that 
stopped only on signal, drew up to the little sta- 
tion. Mr. Carey showed the ticket to the con- 
ductor, and the smiling porter took Missy’s bag 
and helped her jump up to the high step of the 
car. 

“I’ll take good care of her, sah,” he promised 
as Missy kissed her father good-by. 

The engineer whistled, impatient to be off. 
The conductor gave the signal, and when Missy 
had found her seat and looked out of the window 
the little station was a speck in the distance. 

“You-all got a berth to yo’self,” the porter 
said, smiling broadly, “so I’ll jes stow dis yere 
bag on the seat; if there’s anything you want 
jes you press that button, Missy, and I’ll be right 
yere ’fore you can bat an eye.” 

Missy couldn’t repress a little laugh. He had 
used her nickname just as Chink had done years 
before, and she saw that he had made up his 
mind that this was her first long trip. 

“Thank you very much, I’m sure I’ll be all 
right,” she said to him. He disappeared at the 


ON THE TRAIN 173 

end of the aisle, to return in a few minutes with 
a pillow slip for her hat. 

She thanked him again, hung up her coat, and 
settled hack comfortably to read Henri’s letter. 

It was seven pages long, and the writing was 
small and covered both sides of the sheets. She 
was soon deeply engrossed in it. 

Henri had been in another attack and he was 
less reticent about writing of it this time. His 
description was so vivid that Missy was carried 
to the very thick of the fight. She saw the barren 
desolation of No Man’s Land, and heard the 
steady roar of the bursting shells. She was com- 
pletely carried away from the smoothly running 
train and the immediate surroundings of the car 
she was in. 

She had come to the stirring account of the 
taking of the enemy’s first line trenches when 
suddenly something hit the side of her head. 

It didn’t hurt her, but the shock coming when 
it did made her scream. It was as if she had 
been hit by a German hand grenade. 

The letter dropped to the floor and her mind 
came back to the present with a jerk. 

‘‘Oh, mercy!” she exclaimed, “what was it!” 
She looked down and found a rubber ball in her 
lap. 


174 


HELEN CAEEY 


A man across the aisle smiled at her. 

‘‘Oh, youdl get used to that,’’ he said, laugh- 
ing. “The Little Terror is no respecter of per- 
sons when he plays ball, but I’m afraid he took 
you by surprise.” 

“I should say he did,” Missy acknowledged 
ruefully. “I was reading something about the 
war, and it scared me almost to death.” 

The man laughed and returned to his book. 

Missy looked down the aisle. A small head, 
covered with flaming red hair, just peeked above 
the top of one of the seats ; then after a cautious 
wait a face followed. It was a freckled snub- 
nosed little face, and gave proof in one glance 
that the “Little Terror” was an adequate nick- 
name. Two small blue eyes were fastened on 
Missy. 

She smiled and held up the ball. 

“Throw it to me,” a small but decided voice 
demanded. 

“No, you come and get it,” Missy replied. 

The “Little Terror” considered for a minute 
and then crawled over the seat and came to her. 
He was a little boy of about six years old; his 
hands and face were very dirty, and there were 
traces of orange in the comers of his mouth. 

“Give it here,” he said crossly. 


ON THE TRAIN 


175 


‘‘Ola, no, I never do anything for anybody when 
they ask me like that,’’ Missy replied quietly. 

‘^Well, it’s my hall,” the youngster insisted, 
‘‘and yon just better give it to me or I’ll bite 
yon. ’ ’ 

“Mercy me, why, you’re as bad as a little pony 
I used to have,” Missy laughed. “He always 
tried to bite when he couldn’t have his own way.” 

“Have you a pony!” 

“Yes, a lot of them.” 

“How many!” 

“Oh, I don’t know, lots and lots.” 

“Tell me about them.” The “Little Terror” 
climbed up onto the seat and settled himself com- 
fortably. 

He was still there when the porter came and 
advised Missy to go in to dinner at the first call. 
She could only get rid of him by a promise to tell 
him more later on. 

He exacted the promise to the full after dinner. 
By eight o’clock Missy’s imagination was ex- 
hausted. 

“Don’t yon ever go to bed!” she asked, laugh- 
ing. 

‘ ‘ N aw, not till I want to, ” he replied. “ Go on. ” 

“Where’s your berth!” Missy insisted. “In 
this car!” 


176 


HELEN CAKEY 


‘ ^ Yep, down in that room. ’ ^ A very dirty finger 
pointed to the compartment at the end of the car. 
your mother there T’ Missy asked. 

‘‘Sure, but she^s just talking. Go on about 
Gappy.’" 

“ No, no more to-night, ’ ’ Missy declared. “I’m 
going to bed. ’ ’ 

“All right, then. I’ll scream,” the Little Terror 
announced dispassionately. “I’ll scream aw- 
ful,” and he shrieked just once to show that he 
was in earnest. 

Missy looked at him in perplexity. She was 
just going to ring for the porter and ask him to 
make up her berth, when the compartment door 
opened and a badly dressed woman, who looked 
as though she had never been anything but very 
tired, walked down the aisle, caught one arm of 
the protesting Terror and dragged him back, in 
spite of his kicks and screams, to the compart- 
ment. 

The screams grew louder as the sound of slaps 
came through the door, accompanied by a very 
gruff voice. 

‘ ‘ That goes on every day ; has since we left the 
Coast. An outrage, I call it,” the man across the 
aisle from Missy said. 


ON THE TRAIN 177 

‘‘Then no wonder he^s so naughty/^ she re- 
plied. 

The man nodded. 

“They^re Germans/’ he said with an express- 
ive shrug that said as plainly as words that noth- 
ing more could be expected of them. 

Missy did not see the Terror until they were 
almost at Indianapolis on the following day. He 
had been playing on the observation platform 
most of the time, and the car had enjoyed com- 
parative peace, but about four o’clock he came 
down the aisle, climbed up beside Missy and de- 
manded a story. 

“There’s no time for a story now,” she told 
him. “Suppose you tell me something,” she 
suggested. 

The Little Terror eyed her suspiciously. 

“What kind o’ things T’ he said. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Missy parried. “Sup- 
pose you tell me what you’re going to be when 
you grow up, or maybe I can guess.” 

“I bet you can’t. Go on and try,” he replied. 

“Let me see; — soldier?” 

“No.” The answer came so abruptly that 
Missy was surprised. 

“Why not?” she inquired, but she remembered 


178 


HELEN CAREY 


that the man across the aisle had said they were 
Grermans, so she hastened to change the subject. 

They had reached the outskirts of Indianapolis 
and the porter was collecting the bags. He 
brushed Missy’s coat and folded it carefully. 

^‘Gwan, chile, afore I’se paddle yer,” he said 
to the Little Terror. ‘‘My, I’se be glad when I 
see’s de last of yer,” he added with a sigh of 
anticipated relief. 

The Little Terror promptly stuck out his 
tongue. 

“Know what?” he said as the porter carried 
Missy’s bag to the vestibule, “we might just as 
well get off here, only we’re going on to the next 
station ’cause my father says it’s safer. I’m glad 
too, ’cause we’re going to have a long ride in an 
automobile,” he added gleefully. 

“We’re going to a place where there’s lots of 
trees and grass, and Mama says maybe we’ll 
stay — ” but the rest of the story was cut short, 
for the train had entered the station shed, and 
Missy saw Allan Webb and Violet standing on 
the platform. 


CHAPTER XVII 

A RENEWED ACQUAINTANCE 

M issy was the first one off the train as it 
stopped at the station, and she stepped 
right into the arms of the excited 

Violet. 

‘‘Helen, I am so glad to see yon, yon wonderfnl 
girl,’^ Violet enthnsed. “Why, I’m so prond I 
don’t know what to do. I’d jnst simply been 
broken hearted if yon hadn’t come, the Fair 
is — ” 

“Oh, now Vi. Jnst stop for half a second and 
give me a chance,” Allan begged, as he shook 
Missy’s hand. “I’m jnst as glad to see Missy as 
yon are and I insist npon telling her so.” 

“It’s awfnlly nice to be here and I’m so glad to 
see yon both,” Missy said. She was feeling very 
shy and confnsed nnder the torrent of Violet’s 
greetings. 

“Are yon, really? It’s jnst dear of yon to say 
so,” Violet continned, “and I’m simply dying to 
hear all abont that thrilling hold>np from yonr 
very own lips.” 


179 


180 


HELEN CAEEY 


“Well, let’s choose a better place than this,” 
Allan suggested. He picked up Missy’s hag and 
started down the platform. A steady banging 
on one of the windows of the car above his head 
made him look up. 

“Who’s your friend, Missy?” he inquired. 
“He seems to be trying to attract your atten- 
tion.” 

“Oh, that’s the Little Terror,” Missy explained 
as she blew a kiss to the eager freckled face that 
was nodding to her. “I’m not sorry to part with 
him; he was rather a handful.” 

“Looks like it,” Allan agreed. “Come this 
way ; we have to take another train, you 
know. ’ ’ 

He walked down the length of the station, 
through a gate, and helped them into another 
train. 

The trip to Fairview took a couple of hours, 
and they did not reach the Mayfields’ home until 
nearly seven o’clock. 

Missy met Violet’s father and mother in the 
hall, and had just time to say, “How do you do,” 
and decide that they were both very nice, before 
Violet hurried her away to her room. 

At dinner, under the quiet natural charm of 
Mrs. Mayfield, she lost a little of the shyness that 


A EENEWED ACQUAINTANCE 181 

Violet enthusiastic praise had caused, but she 
was glad when time came to go to bed. She was 
a little tired from her trip and just a little home- 
sick. 

The next morning Violet took her to the big 
town hall where they were getting ready for the 
Fair, and introduced her to all of her friends. 

They greeted her almost as warmly as Violet 
had done, and Missy, her cheeks very red from 
embarrassment, wished secretly that she had 
never seen Thud Sheldon or discovered his plot, 
and above all that she had never accepted Violet’s 
invitation. 

“Really it wasn’t nearly as exciting as you 
think it was,” she said to Marjorie Perkins, a 
tall blonde girl with dreamy blue eyes. 

“Things just happened and I did everything 
mechanically. I’m sure if I had had to make up 
my mind, or had time to decide about it I would 
have been scared to death.” 

“Didn’t it make you thrill to know that you had 
done something for your country?” Marjorie in- 
quired earnestly. 

Missy laughed. 

“Goodness, no,” she protested, “I was sort of 
mad at Thud, of course, but, oh, well, it wasn’t so 
much that I did when you really think about it. 


182 


HELEN CAEEY 


I^d love dearly to get a chance to do something 
really big, but of course, I don’t suppose I ever 
will.” Marjorie looked at her in surprise, and 
the talk turned to other subjects, 

^‘What are you going to do for us at the Fair, 
my dear?” Mrs. Mayfield asked when they were at 
luncheon. “We hoped you might have an origi- 
nal idea.” 

“You might put her in a tent and exhibit her as 
the Champion Lady Hold-up,” Allan suggested. 
“I’m sure it would be worth at least fifty cents a 
ticket. ’ ’ 

“Can you do anything special?” Violet in- 
quired. “I mean besides shoot and ride a 
horse.” 

Missy was nonplussed. 

“Why, no, I don’t really think I can,” she 
stammered. 

“I’ll bet you can lasso,” Allan declared. 
“Can’t you?” 

“Oh, of course, but you don’t want me to go 
around the Fair roping the visitors, do you?” 
Missy laughed. 

“It might not be a bad idea,” Mrs. Mayfield 
said seriously. 

“I’ll think about it and maybe I’ll get an in- 
spiration.” 


A EENEWED ACQUAINTANCE 183 

‘^What are you children going to do this after- 
noon U’ 

“I Ve got to go to a committee meeting/^ Violet 
said, ‘‘so Allan has to amuse Helen.’’ 

“Well, it’s about time I was allowed that priv- 
ilege,” Allan laughed. “Missy’s really my 
friend, you know, and I don’t want you to forget 
it.” 

“What will you do? It’s too hot for tennis.” 

“And I don’t play anyway,” Missy confessed. 

“We’ll go for a ride,” Allan said. “I want 
Missy to see that even if I am a tenderfoot with 
horses I am not quite so helpless when it comes to 
driving a car.” 

“I wish you wouldn’t keep reminding me that I 
called you a tenderfoot,” Missy said as they 
started for their ride a little later. “I took it 
all back the next day when you got the best of 
Jinx, and I think you’re mean.” 

Allan looked at her and smiled. 

“Then I won’t say it again,” he promised 
gently. He turned out of peaceful Main Street 
and headed for the country. 

“You haven’t told me yet what you think of my 
car,” he said. 

“It’s a perfect beauty. I never saw anything 
so long and powerful looking, and I like the nice 


184 


HELEN CAEEY 


gray color it’s painted,” Missy replied enthu- 
siastically. “How fast can it go?” 

‘ ‘ Do you want to see ? ’ ’ 

“Yes.” Missy’s eyes danced with excitement. 

“Then hang on,” Allan warned her as he grad- 
ually quickened the speed of the car until it 
seemed as though they were almost flying. 

“How was that?” he demanded as he slowed 
up for a crossing. 

“It was great! I never knew a car could go 
so fast,” Missy exclaimed. “If Tim gets ours 
up to thirty-five he thinks he’s breaking all 
records.” 

“Shall we try it again?” 

“No, not right away, I’d rather talk,” — ^Missy 
smiled, and Allan slowed the car to a snail’s 
pace. 

“Tell me about camp,” she asked. “I’m crazy 
to know what it’s like now that Tommy is there, 
and are you really going to France soon?” 

“I hope so, and the signs do sort of point that 
way, but of course, we really don’t know anything 
for sure.” 

‘ ‘ Oh dear, I sort of hate to think of it. I keep 
remembering what Henri said in one of his let- 
ters. ‘In an attack some must be left behind,’ 


A EENEWED ACQUAINTANCE 185 

and you know all the Germans in the world aren’t 
worth one American. I do wish we’d hurry up 
and just give them a good sound licking,” she 
finished angrily. 

‘‘Well, give us time,” Allan said, “we’ll do it 
yet and we’ll make a thorough job of it. Hon- 
estly, Missy, I just can’t wait to get there.” 

“But, why? You may get killed,” Missy said. 

“What if I do? Missy, would you be sorry?” 

The question came so abruptly that Missy 
blushed. 

“Why of course I would; what a silly question 
to ask,” she answered. 

Allan drove on for a little while in silence. His 
officer’s uniform and cap made him look older and 
a little bit handsomer, Missy decided as she 
watched him out of the comer of her eye. 

“Do you know,” she said finally, “in spite of 
all the soldiers I’ve seen in the last couple of days 
— ^there were a lot of them on the train coming, 
and you remember how many we saw in the sta- 
tion — I just can’t believe that we are at war. 
Now if I could just see some marching, or a sentry 
on duty, I might realize it.” 

“Do you want to realize it?” Allan inquired 
as he slowed down the car. 


186 


HELEN CAEEY 


‘‘Of course I do/’ 

“All right, keep your eyes open.” 

He turned around and took a road that they 
had passed a little way back. 

It led through corn fields and now and again 
they passed an old farm house or a group of 
barns. They struck the railway tracks and fol- 
lowed them for several miles. 

“Ho you see that bridge?” Allan inquired as 
they came to a river, and the road turned abruptly 
to the right. 

“Yes, and, oh, Allan, do look, there’s a soldier 
walking up and down ! Isn ’t that exciting ! ’ ’ 

“He’s guarding the bridge against German 
spies,” Allan explained. “Now do you realize 
we’re at war?” 

“Yes, I believe I do,” Missy said seriously. 

The soldier saw them and waved. Allan 
honked his horn and Missy waved back. 

“He must be awfully lonely up there all alone,” 
she said. 

“Oh, he’s not on long at a stretch. Hello, there 
goes a tire.” 

“Not a blow-out?” Missy asked. 

“Sounds like it.” Allan stopped the car. 

“Yes, it’s this back tire. Oh, well, never mind. 
I’ll drive down under that tree by the river where 


A EENEWED ACQUAINTANCE 187 

it’s shady and you can enjoy the sight of your 
sentinel while I change the shoe.” 

‘‘Maybe I can help; I have, you know,” Missy 
said as she got out of the car and watched Allan 
select the necessary tools. 

The bridge and the soldier were the only things 
in sight. The road was through a lonely hit of 
country and there was not a house in view, so that 
it was a surprise to Missy to see a child coming 
toward them across the field. 

“Why, it’s the Little Terror!” she exclaimed 
as she recognized her red-haired, freckled-faced 
traveling companion. 

“What are you doing here I” she asked as he 
ran to her. 

“Looking round,” he replied. “Anyway my 
papa is, I’m chasing a big butterfly. Have you 
seen him anywhere around here!” 

“No, I’m sorry, but I haven’t,” Missy laughed. 
“Aren’t you surprised to see me!” 

“Nope, I knew you lived here; we do too now, 
we came back in a big automobile, bigger ’n yours. 
Oh, there he is!” he exclaimed as a big butterfly 
flew lazily by, and he was off in pursuit. 

“That child seems to haunt me,” Missy said, 
“though, thank goodness, I can get away from him 
to-day; I couldn’t in the train.” 


188 


HELEN CAEEY 


‘^Jump in, I’ll save you from him,” Allan 
laughed as he put back the tools in the box and 
opened the door of the car. 

^‘I’d like always to be around to rescue you 
from unpleasant things, Missy. Would you like 
to have me?” 

Missy recognized the soft inflection in his voice 
that had come to her so clearly as she read his 
letter on her Western plains, and the memory of 
it obliterated the red head of the Little Terror. 


CHAPTER XVHI 


THE WARNING 

"W TT ^HY, that’s a letter from Tommy,” 
%/%/ Missy said eagerly as she picked 
▼ ▼ up an envelope that she found at 

her place at breakfast the next morning. 

^‘Read it, dear,” Mrs. Mayfield smiled. ‘‘I 
know you’re anxious to know what he has to say, 
and we’ll excuse you.” 

Missy tore open the envelope. It was a short 
letter written in Tom’s brief way. 

‘‘Why, how exciting!” she exclaimed when she 
had finished reading it. “He says that he and 
Shoulders are going to a camp on Long Island, as 
part of the ‘Rainbow Division.’ WTiat’s that, 
Allan?” 

“Why, they’ve chosen a regiment from every 
State in the Union,” Allan explained, “and they 
are going to train them at Camp Mills. I think 
he’s lucky to be ordered there; I hear it’s going 
to be a wonderful camp. WThen does he leave?” 

“He says he’s not sure, but if he can find out 
189 


190 


HELEN CAREY 


if they stop anywhere near here he’s going to 
send me a telegram.” 

^‘Oh, won’t it be exciting if they do!” Violet 
exclaimed. ‘‘We could be there if it were only 
for a minute. I’m crazy to meet your brother, 
Helen. Allan says he’s simply splendid, and as 
for Shoulders, well, I know I’d be simply wild 
over him.” 

“Do you know, I thought that was his last 
name when Allan first talked about him, and one 
day I called him Mr. Shoulders ; you should have 
heard Captain Forrest and Allan laugh, but it’s 
such a queer nickname. Where did he get it?” 

“Chink gave it to him,” Missy explained, “the 
same as he gave me mine. The first time he ever 
saw him he said, ‘Him — allee Shoulders,’ and of 
course the name stuck. It does suit him, too, 
doesn’t it, Allan?” 

“Yes, he’s got the broadest shoulders I ever 
saw,” Allan admitted, but he made haste to 
change the subject. 

Missy’s affection for the big cow puncher al- 
ways made him unreasonably angry. 

It was the day before the Fair and Violet took 
Missy to the hall and kept her there all day. 
They worked hard, for the final decorations were 
still unfinished. 


THE WARNING 


191 


Mrs. Mayfield had thought of a novel scheme 
for Missy, hut apart from asking her if she was 
very accurate with the lasso she refused to go into 
details, and when Missy admitted that she was 
she would not tell them another thing. 

The idea of the Fair was to have all the na- 
tions of the Allies represented. 

Mrs. Mayfield had charge of the English booth, 
where she was going to sell all kinds of knitted 
articles and the latest war books. 

Violet, with several of the other girls, was go- 
ing to wear the dress and cap of an Alsatian peas- 
ant and sell flowers. 

She tried on her costume that evening when 
they got home. 

‘Ht’s mighty pretty,’^ Missy said as she fin- 
ished lacing up the bodice. think it would be 
fun to go around dressed like that all the time, 
don’t you?” 

‘‘Oh, it would be perfectly adorable!” Violet 
agreed. “I’d love it, you’d always have the feel- 
ing that you were dressed up to be in a play, and 
you’d always be waiting for the curtain to go up, 
though I don’t suppose the people in Alsace feel 
that way, do you?” 

Missy couldn’t repress a smile. “No, I sup- 
pose they are used to it,” she said. 


192 


HELEN CAREY 


‘‘What are you going to wear to-night?’’ Vio- 
let rattled on. “You know some of my friends 
are coming in to meet you and we’ll probably 
kick up the rugs and dance. ’ ’ 

“Why, I thought I’d wear that blue dress,” 
Missy hesitated. 

“The one with the ruffles?” Violet inquired. 
“Don’t you dare, you’ve got to save that for to- 
morrow night. I’m simply mad about it. Wear 
the white one with the pink rose-buds to-night, 
and, oh, Missy, let me fix your hair for you. I 
know a perfectly stunning way that would be so 
becoming. Here, sit down.” 

Missy sank onto the long bench before her 
dressing table without protest. All of the girls 
she had met that day wore their hair up and she 
felt very young with hers down her back. 

Violet’s deft little fingers patted and pulled, 
and when she had finished the result almost sur- 
prised Missy herself. It was a far more success- 
ful attempt than her own had been, and it felt as 
if it were up to stay. 

At eight o’clock the guests began to arrive. 
Violet greeted them and introduced Missy with 
an exaggerated description of her as a heroine. 

Poor Missy ! She stammered and blushed and 
was altogether unhappy, and to make it worse 


THE WARNING 


193 


Allan stood by and seemed to enjoy her confusion. 
But the old adage that a thing must get worse 
before it gets better proved true, for just as she 
was most miserable Violet brought up Malcolm 
White. He was a U. S. Marine, home, like Allan, 
on leave, and he had spent a summer in Wyo- 
ming and knew Grace Hollis. 

Missy was so glad to be able to step down from 
the lofty pedestal that Violet had put her on and 
talk to some one about the things she really knew 
and loved, that she let Malcolm lead her over to 
the window seat and talk to her while the others 
danced three dances. 

It was not until the guests had gone and Violet 
was teasing her as they got ready for bed that she 
realized how much of the evening she had de- 
voted to him. 

‘‘Allan was so cross he wouldnT even be nice 
to anybody,’^ Violet declared. “IVe never seen 
him in such a rage.’^ 

“Allan! why what made him cross Missy in- 
quired innocently. 

“You did, because you talked to Malcolm all the 
time. ’ ’ 

“But what difference could that make to 
Allan? 

“All the difference in the world, silly; Allan^s 


194 


HELEN CAEEY 


simply crazy about you/^ Violet answered, yawn- 
ing as she turned out the light, and Missy tried to 
go to sleep, but this entirely new idea kept sing- 
ing in her ears. 

The first thing that Mrs. Mayfield asked the 
next morning was: 

‘‘Missy, have you a riding skirt with you?’’ 

“Why, yes, in the bottom of my trunk,” Missy 
replied, though she had made a little vow, when 
she realized the scarcity of horses in Fairview, 
never to admit that she had brought one with her. 

“Good, then put it in a suitcase with a flannel 
shirt and colored handkerchief. Vi can give you 
a red sailor tie, and take them over to the Hall. 
Now, don’t ask questions,” she laughed as she 
saw Missy’s look of surprise. 

“Where’s Allan?” Violet inquired. “Surely 
he’s not still in bed?” 

“Indeed he is not,” her mother replied. 
“He’s gone to town.” 

“Mercy! The plot thickens,” Mr. Mayfield 
laughed from behind his morning paper. 

The plan remained a mystery all day and it was 
not until eight o’clock that evening that Mrs. May- 
field beckoned Missy to her and led her to the 
dressing-room. 


THE WAENING 195 

The hall was transformed into a splendid bower 
of flags. 

The tricolor floated above the French booth 
where little girls in quaint costumes sold dainty 
candies. 

The black of the Belgian flag lent a somber dig- 
nity to the corner set apart for contributions for 
little Belgian children. 

The knitting table was doing a steady business 
under the protection of John Bull. 

The room was filled with people, but they 
cleared a space for Missy as she returned in her 
riding skirt, carrying a coil of rope in one hand. 
Mrs. Mayfield led her to the center of the room 
directly under the Stars and Stripes. 

“Miss Carey will lasso anything or anybody 
in this room for twenty-five cents,’’ she an- 
nounced, laughing, “and she promises not to hurt 
anybody’s hat, or to knock otf your glasses when 
she ’s doing it. ’ ’ 

The announcement received hearty applause, 
and after a few minutes of hesitation people be- 
gan coming up to her. 

“Do you think you could rope that chair for me, 
my dear?” an old gentleman inquired with a 
twinkle in his eye. 


196 


HELEN CAEEY 


Missy smiled at him and nodded, then she un- 
coiled her rope, encircled the chair easily and 
dragged it across the floor. 

After that she was kept busy for the rest of the 
evening. It became quite a game to single out a 
friend, lure him in the center of the room where 
Missy’s all-encircling rope would pin his arms to 
his side and hold him until he would promise to 
buy flowers or candy at the command of his cap- 
tor, and when toward the end of the evening danc- 
ing began, the men chose their partners, dropped 
the money into the basket that Allan was holding, 
and Missy roped the girls and delivered them 
hound to their purchasers. 

‘‘Aunt Peg, I think Missy’s done enough,” 
Allan objected at the end of the fifth dance. “I 
know she ’s tired and anyway I want to dance with 
her,” he ended lamely. 

Mrs. Mayfield looked at Missy and then at the 
basket heaped high with silver. 

“I think she deserves a rest,” she said. “Go 
and change your dress, dear, and come back and 
dance. ’ ’ 

“My arm is a little tired,” Missy admitted, 
“but it’s been loads of fun.” 

The music started, and before Missy knew it 


THE WARNING 197 

Allan was dancing her down the floor in a lively 
one-step. 

After it was over she hurried to the dressing- 
room to change into her blue dress. The air of 
the hall was hot, and the exertion of throwing the 
lariat had made her a little tired and dizzy. She 
opened the window of the dressing-room and took 
deep grateful breaths of the cool night air. 

It was a bright starlit night, and the tiny cres- 
cent of the new moon just showed above the tree 
tops. 

Missy was thinking how different the scene be- 
fore her was to the solitude to which she was ac- 
customed, when a squeaky voice from below the 
window startled her out of her reverie. 

“Hello, you, IWe been looking through the win- 
dow at you.’’ 

Missy looked down and could not help laughing 
as she saw again the fiery hair of the Little 
Terror. 

“Well, for goodness’ sake, where did you come 
from?” she asked as she sat down on the win- 
dow sill and pulled him through the window be- 
side her. 

“Oh, I runned away; my papa’s gone some- 
where and my mama’s crying over there.” He 


198 


HELEN CAEEY 


pointed a pudgy finger in the general direction of 
the Main Street of the village. 

^‘What’s thatr’ he demanded, looking at the 
lasso. 

Missy picked it up and explained. 

‘‘Ah, that’s nothing. I know about something 
more exciting than that,” he added proudly. 
“I’ll tell you if you give me an ice cream cone.” 

“All right, I’ll give you one,” Missy promised 
good-naturedly. 

“What do you know?” She asked the ques- 
tion idly and was not at all prepared for the 
amazing story that tumbled from the small red 
lips of the Little Terror. 

“Guess what?” he said gleefully. “Know 
where I seen you the other day? Well, my papa’s 
going there and he ’s going to cut otf a little piece 
of the iron track and give it to me to play with, 
cause I’m a German, see, and my papa says noth- 
ing’s too good for me. Maybe he’ll have to punch 
that old soldier that’s there, and then when the 
train all full of soldiers comes along, bang they’ll 
all fall into the river, and my pop says — ” 

But Missy did not wait to hear more. From 
the confused jingle of words she understood one 
clear fact. The bridge was in danger. 

She rolled the astonished child unceremoniously 


THE WARNING 


199 


out of the window and dashed back to the hall. 

Allan was waiting for her beside the French 
booth. She caught his arm tightly. 

“Come quickly, something awful has hap- 
pened!’^ she gasped. 

Allan saw the look of horror on her white face 
and followed her quickly to the door. 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE EESCUE 

^OUR car, quickly!’^ she directed as 
\/ they reached the sidewalk. Drive 
to the bridge we went to the other day 
as fast as you can. 1^11 explain.’’ 

‘‘Where’s my ice cream?” an angry voice de- 
manded, but Missy hardly heard it. It was not 
until she was in the car, and going at a terrific 
speed that she realized that she was holding tight 
to her lasso rope. 

When they reached the open road Allan turned 
a little from the wheel. 

“What’s up?” he asked shortly. 

“Oh, Allan, I don’t know for sure,” Missy an- 
swered breathlessly, “but that terrible child told 
me some stuff about his father cutting a piece of 
the railroad ties and punching the sentry. He’s 
a German, you know, but perhaps it was all some 
make-believe. 

“Well, we won’t take any chances,” Allan re- 
plied, and made his car fly along the deserted 
road. 


200 


THE EESCUE 


201 


They were going so fast that conversation was 
impossible. Allan kept his eyes fastened on the 
road, and Missy tried to collect her thoughts to 
meet the danger ahead. 

From the lights and laughter of the Fair she 
was suddenly transported to a stretch of flat 
country, tearing along beside Allan to — she knew 
not what — perhaps the horrible sight of a wreck. 
Then the memory of Tom’s letter flashed through 
her mind like a scorching flame. The train of 
soldiers that the Little Terror had predicted so 
gleefully would go ‘^bang into the river” was a 
troop train, and Missy never doubted that it was 
the one that was carrying Tom and Shoulders 
east. She tried to ease her fears by cold sen- 
sible reasoning, but her heart was thumping, and 
her brain was filled with a sickening dread. 

“Allan,” she whispered once, “Tommy and 
Shoulders!” 

Allan gave a startled exclamation and urged 
the powerful car on to even greater speed. As 
they came to the railroad track he slowed down. 

“We’re in time anyway,” he said with relief. 
“Keep up your nerve. Missy; maybe it’s nothing 
at all.” He switched oif his powerful head- 
lights and drove the car cautiously to the river 
bank and stopped. 


202 


HELEN CAEEY 


Everything was quiet. The bridge loomed 
black and sinister against the brilliant star-lit 
sky. Allan got out of the car. 

^‘There’s a gun under that seat, Missy,’’ he 
whispered, ‘H’ll leave it for you.” 

‘‘Where are you going?” Missy demanded, but 
her voice was calm. 

“Oh, just to have a look. I’ll climb up that 
bank and if everything’s all right I’ll call to you.” 

“Take the gun; I won’t need it,” Missy said. 

“No, I won’t; you keep it, and if you want me, 
fire.” 

Allan walked quickly into the darkness. Missy 
watched him until he was out of sight, and set- 
tled down to wait. Her ears were trained to hear 
the slightest sound; a rustle of the bushes, the 
rolling of some loose dirt came to her, followed 
by a silence for three terrifying minutes. Then 
a shot, a sharp cry and a flash as if a fuse had 
been blown out. 

Missy’s first thought was that Allan had no 
gun, and she nearly fainted with fear. For a 
second her mind was numbed, then it cleared and 
she could think clearly and quickly. 

She switched on the big search light of the car 
and turned it full on the bridge. It was an ef- 
fort to make herself look, but she did. Three 


THE EESCUE 


203 


indistinct forms were silhouetted against the 
shadow of the background of trees. With a shud- 
der she saw that one of them was a crumpled heap 
of khaki ; the other two were locked in each other ’s 
arms, fighting desperately. It was impossible to 
distinguish which of the three was Allan. As she 
watched the two men moved to the edge of the 
bridge, there was a second of terrifying inde- 
cision, and then a splash as their bodies struck the 
water below. 

Missy never knew how she got to the edge of 
the river, but she was there a minute after the 
splash. 

‘‘Allan!’’ she called desperately. A head ap- 
peared above the surface of the water. 

“The bridge is wrecked. Missy; you’ve got to 
stop the train. Don’t wait for me, go now; there 
isn’t a second to spare,” a voice weak and barely 
audible, but unmistakably Allan’s, came to her. 

It was a momentous choice, and Missy wavered 
in her decision, then the greater duty triumphed 
and she hurried back to the car. 

She longed for a horse as she released the 
brakes and tried to concentrate on the starting of 
it. She felt clumsy and so slow. At last it 
jumped forward with a sudden bound ; she headed 
it back along the track towards the coming train. 


204 


HELEN CAREY 


Tim’s patient explanation and only half-serious 
lessons of the past were being called upon to 
their uttermost, but the car was going and going 
fast and that was the main thing. 

She passed the road that led back to the vil- 
lage, and a feeling of desolation and loneliness 
came over her. The country stretched out in a 
desert of corn fields, and there was no sign of a 
human habitation in sight. 

Missy tried to devise some plan. She hoped 
every minute that she would come to a station. 
At last a tiny, faint pin point of light showed far 
down the track; her heart warmed at the sight, 
only to turn cold with fear at the next instant as 
the distant rumble of a train reached her. 

She jammed on the brakes and looked franti- 
cally around her. A white mile post gleamed 
ghost-like from the other side of the track. She 
looked at it hard; she was trying to bring her 
mind to focus on the train. 

The noise of the train grew nearer ; she watched 
it pass the green light and come steadily on. It 
was in full sight ; in a minute it would be past her. 
She saw the bold, unblinking headlight of the 
great locomotive, and something in her head 
clicked. 

She pressed her knee on the button of the 


THE RESCUE 


205 


horn that was fastened to the side of the car 
and felt for her lasso; it was in the seat beside 
her. 

The horn emitted a steady shriek that rose 
above the rumble of the oncoming train, then it 
stopped suddenly and Missy stood up on her seat. 
Just as the big train was almost abreast of her 
she sent the lasso hurtling through the air and 
pulled it taut as it encircled the mile post across 
the track. Then she braced herself against the 
side of the car for the shock. As the locomotive 
struck the rope, the end that she was holding was 
jerked out of her hands and caught in the engine. 
The engineer felt a slight jar and a piece of wood 
crashed through the window beside him; it was 
part of the mile post. 

He jammed on the brakes and brought the train 
to a sudden stop farther on. 

He jumped to the ground and raced back along 
the track and almost stumbled over a limp little 
body in a blue dress that lay huddled in a heap by 
the side of a big gray automobile. 


CHAPTER XX 


MISSY MAKES A PBOMISB 

W HEN Missy opened her eyes an hour 
later Allan was kneeling beside her, 
and her head was pressed against 
the side of his damp coat. 

‘‘Missy, Missy, my darling, speak to me,’^ he 
begged softly. 

Missy tried to smile, but a blinding pain in her 
right shoulder made her close her eyes and she 
lost consciousness before she could answer him. 

In a far-off sort of way she knew that some one 
was trying to make her drink something. What- 
ever it was it had a soothing effect on her pain. 
She opened her eyes again; a hazy memory of 
what had happened was struggling with the danc- 
ing lights before her eyes. 

The roadside seemed filled with soldiers. She 
wondered vaguely if she was somewhere in 
France on a battlefield. She thought she heard 
Tom’s voice, but she wasn’t sure. Then a con- 
fusion of things crowded into her mind, and for a 
little while she struggled with the idea that some 
206 


MISSY MAKES A PROMISE 207 

one was crying to her from the middle of a swiftly 
flowing river. 

‘‘Allan/’ she cried, and made a desperate ef- 
fort to get up. 

“Here I am, dear, what is it? Oh, Missy, are 
you suffering awfully, poor wonderful, brave lit- 
tle girl ? ’ ’ 

Things began to take some sort of shape as she 
regained full consciousness. 

“Did I hear Tom’s voice?” she asked wonder- 
ingly. 

“Yes, you did, dear,” a big voice answered, 
and she found herseK looking into Tom’s fright- 
ened face. 

“Where’s Shoulders?” she whispered. 

“Right here beside you.” A heavy rough 
hand found hers and squeezed it. 

“Then nobody got hurt, did they?” she in- 
quired, “but why am I here?” 

“We don’t know, Missy, can you remember?” 
Tom asked. 

Missy tried to think. 

“The train was coming,” she said slowly, “and 
I had to stop it because the red-headed child’s 
papa said he was a German and — oh, dear, that’s 
not it.” 

“Don’t try to remember, honey, just be still.” 


208 


HELEN CAREY 


Shoulders’ voice sounded shaky, and Missy won- 
dered why he had been crying. 

‘‘No, I want to tell it,” she insisted feverishly. 
“You see the train was coming and I had to stop 
it and I couldn’t reach the lights in time, so I 
roped that post over there and then I sort of for- 
got what happened. I hung on tight to the other 
end; I had to because the engineer wouldn’t stop 
when I pushed the horn. Allan, did the Little 
Terror’s father punch the soldier on the bridge?” 

“She’s getting feverish and she mustn’t talk 
any more,” a very stern voice said, and Missy 
felt a cool hand on her forehead, something nice 
trickled down her throat. After that she was 
only half-conscious of what happened. 

She heard a loud noise and a lot of talking, and 
then a voice that sounded like Allan’s said, “Yes, 
sir, a whole rail was gone, sir ; he did it with an 
electric detonator, I think. Must have taken the 
sentry by surprise, for he killed him at once, 
sir.” 

“Were you without a gun?” a very deep voice 
inquired. 

“Yes, sir, but I ducked his shot and grappled 
with him. We both fell into the water, you know, 
and I think he’s still there.” 

“Then the girl came on alone to flag the train?” 


MISSY MAKES A PKOMISE 


209 


‘‘Yes, sir.’’ 

“Most remarkable. I never heard anything 
like it. Do yon suppose she had an idea she could 
lasso an engine?” 

“I don’t know, sir, but she did stop the train.” 

“Yes, yes, she did, and you tell me her brother 
was on it; most remarkable story I ever heard.” 
The questioner blew his nose loudly, and the con- 
versation stopped. 

Then she felt herself being lifted gently, as 
some one said, “The tracks reported fixed, sir; 
shall we go on?” 

Then Tom and Shoulders both kissed her and 
said a lot of things she couldn’t understand, and 
after a little wait she felt herself moving slowly 
away. 

The ruts in the road made the pain in her 
shoulder worse and she groaned. Some one gave 
her something to drink and she went to sleep. 

“I wish you’d stop looking at me,” she said 
late the next morning. She was in bed in her 
room at the Mayfield house and a nurse in a white 
cap was sitting beside her. 

“You don’t think I see you, but I do,” she 
added fretfully. 

“Oh, you’re awake, are you?” a cheerful voice 
replied. “Well, that’s good. How about a lit- 


210 HELEN CAREY 

tie hot broth or something to eat; you’re hungry, 
aren’t you?” 

‘‘Yes, I guess I am,” Missy admitted. “Did 
I dream about all that last night?” 

“Look at that bandage and you’ll see for your- 
self,” she said, “how do you feel?” 

“Kind of wobbly,” Missy replied. “I think 
I’d like that soup.” 

After she drank a cup of hot broth she began 
to feel better. 

The doctor came in later, looked at her, and 
nodded approvingly. 

“Rest for to-day,” he insisted when she wanted 
to ask questions, “and if you are better to-mor- 
row I’ll let you have some company.” 

So Missy rested and tried not to worry too 
much when the pain in her shoulder grew worse 
toward night. 

“There, am I better?” she demanded the next 
morning when the doctor took her hand, ‘ ‘ and can 
I ask just one question?” 

“Yes, if it isn’t a very long one,” the doctor 
agreed. 

“Then how is Allan?” Missy asked eagerly. 

“Well, I declare ; he’s very well. That is, none 
the worse for his ducking, but he’s in danger of 
losing his mind, he says, unless he sees you.” 


MISSY MAKES A PROMISE 


211 


‘‘Oh, then, please let him come,” Missy begged. 
“I’ll be good, really I will, and it will make me 
lots better; you see if it doesn’t.” 

The doctor nodded his head wisely. 

“We’ll see,” he said. “There are two other 
people equally anxious to talk to you.” 

“Tommy and Shoulders,” Missy guessed. 

“No, they are on their way east. The bridge 
was fixed last night, and you know war is a stern 
master.” 

Missy looked disappointed. “I suppose so, 
anyway I did see them last night, didn’t I?” she 
asked. ‘ ‘ But tell me who the other two are 1 ’ ’ she 
added. 

“Well, one is a colonel of the United States 
Army; he wants to tell you how brave you are, 
and ask you one or two questions. Do you feel 
like seeing him?” 

“Yes, of course I do,” Missy replied. “Who’s 
the other?” 

“Your father.” 

‘ ‘ Dad here ! Oh, let me see him this minute ! ’ ’ 
Missy cried excitedly, and the doctor raised a 
warning finger. 

“Not if you’re going to get so excited,” he said. 

Missy subsided, and in a few minutes the door 
opened and the colonel entered. 


212 


HELEN CAEEY 


He was an elderly man with white hair and an 
erect and soldierly bearing. 

“The doctor says I may stay with you for just 
five minutes, Miss Carey,” he said, sitting down 
in the chair that the nurse had placed for him, 
“and how can I thank you in that short time for 
your splendid courage? I promised not to ex- 
cite you, so that I can’t tell you what a very won- 
derful thing you did.” 

Missy smiled happily. 

“Why, I just did what I had to do,” she re- 
plied. “I suppose I could have thought of some- 
thing better, but I just did the first thing that came 
into my mind. Please don’t thank me. Gra- 
cious, my own brother was on the train, you know, 
so I simply had to save him.” 

The colonel shook his head. 

“I suppose being a heroine for the second time 
makes you feel quite at home,” he said, his eyes 
twinkling, “so I won’t say any more, except to 
thank you in the name of our Government for 
your courage and pluck.” 

When he saw tears shining in Missy’s gray 
eyes, he hastened to change the subject and asked 
her to tell him all that she could about the Little 
Terror. 


MISSY MAKES A PEOMISE 


213 


When the five minutes were up he left her with 
a grave salute, and the nurse ushered in Mr. 
Carey. 

‘ ^ Daddy Missy snuggled into her father’s 
warm embrace, and cried for joy. Neither of 
them said very much, for Mr. Carey’s voice broke 
every time he tried to speak, and Missy had noth- 
ing to say, but she did ask when she could go 
home. 

‘‘Just as soon as you are a little better,” her 
father told her, “and oh. Missy, my dear little 
girl, don’t ever go away again,” he added 
brokenly. 

It was not until after dinner that Allan came. 
He entered on tiptoe and hesitated awkwardly at 
the foot of the lounge on which she was lying. 

“Missy, how are you?” he asked gently. 

“Hello, Allan, I’m fine,” Missy replied. She 
had been longing to see him all day, but now that 
he was there she was suddenly confused. 

“You — you didn’t catch cold from your duck- 
ing, did you?” she asked prosaically. 

Allan looked at her and they both laughed. 

“Missy, you darling you!” he exclaimed, drop- 
ping to his knees beside her. “I thought they 
weren’t going to let me see you before I left.” 


214 


HELEN CAEEY 


Missy caught her breath in a little gasp. 

‘‘Left! Allan, you aren^t going awayT’ she 
asked. 

‘‘Yes, dear, I am, to-night, and we sail for 
France next week. It must be, you know, but oh. 
Missy, if I only knew that when I came back you 
— he hesitated and looked at her beseechingly. 

Missy smiled back at him. 

“Ill be waiting for you, dear,’’ she promised 
softly. 

Then as he kissed her she added happily, “And 
to think I had on the blue dress ! But I couldn ’t 
run away when you called me darling, and, any 
way, that wasn’t exactly a proposal, was it?” 


CHAPTER XXI 


CONCLUSION 

‘‘T ’LL ride in for the mail, Chink, but don’t 
I tell Aunt Tab,” Missy said as she left her 
chair by the window and tiptoed out of 
the room. 

^‘Missy’s arm velly sick,” Chink protested. 

‘‘No, it’s not, it’s almost well, and Gappy will 
walk if I tell him to,” Missy assured him, “and 
if I stay in the house another day I’ll go crazy.” 

She called Ned and after a good deal of coax- 
ing she persuaded him to harness Gappy for her. 

Once in the saddle with the reins caught loosely 
in her still bandaged hand she gave a deep sigh of 
content. 

The broad plains rolled invitingly before her, 
and the big range of mountains seemed to wel- 
come her home. 

“It’s my country. Gappy,” she said aloud to the 
pony, “and I’ve done my bit so that I can claim 
it as mine, but there’s lots more to be done, old 
man, and we ’re not going to sit back and let some 
one else do it.” 


215 


216 


HELEN CAEEY 


The relief of expressing her innermost feelings 
made her spur Gappy into a lope and the mail box 
was soon reached. 

There ^s a letter from Henri/’ she exclaimed 
as she saw the comer of the familiar gray paper. 

‘‘Walk slowly, old fellow, so that I can read it.” 
She opened the envelope with little trouble, for 
her fingers were growing strong again as her 
broken shoulder got better, and this is what she 
read: 

“A Base Hospital. 

“Somewhere in Belgium. 

dear little Marraine, 

“I can write but a few words; I am badly 
wounded, but in spite of my pain my heart sings. 
I have found again my little sister Marieken of 
whom I write to you so often. She is well and 
oh, my little Marraine, how can I tell you ; she has 
done so great a thing for our beloved Belgium. 
I want that you should know of it, and some day 
soon I will tell you. It is a book of glowing deeds, 
that story of my little sister. La petite Brave, 
Marieken De Bmin! 

“Your happy soldier, 

Henri.” 

Missy gazed for a long time over the plains, 
thinking of the story of the little Belgian. 


CONCLUSION 


217 


‘‘I wonder if I will ever see her,” she said, and 
then because speculating on the way of destiny 
is useless, and because the sun was well down in 
the west, she spurred Cappy and started home to 
the ranch. 



THE SOMEWHERE SERIES 

BY MARTHA TRENT 

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A peculiarly timely series of books for young readers 
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SOMEWHERE IN AMERICA 

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SOMEWHERE IN BELGIUM 

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SOMEWHERE IN ENGLAND 

4 VALERIE DUVAL: 

SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE 

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SOMEWHERE IN ITALY 

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THE BOY SCOUT FIRE FIGHTERS — 

THE BOY SCOUTS OF THE LIGHTHOUSE TROOP — 
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